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UNDER THE PALMETTO 

IN PEACE AND WAP. 


BY 


/ 


RICHARD MEADE BACHE. 




PHILADELPHIA: 

CLAXTON, REMSEN, & HAFFELFINGER, 
624, 626, AND 628 MARKET STREET. 
1880 . 


TZ--& 

.IE 1 2 . i "U" 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1880, hy 
RICHARD MEADE BACHE, 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 


COLLINS, PRINTER 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


CHAPTER I. 

On an October morning of 1860, not long before 
the cannon of Forts Moultrie, Sumter, and Morris 
Island roared in civil strife in the vicinity of 
Charleston, South Carolina, I chanced one morn- 
ing, bright and early, to be strolling along the 
beach of Kiawah Island, shooting snipe. Manors 
devoted to the cultivation of the long-stapled cotton 
stretched far away, not much for the eye to rest 
upon, destitute, as they were, of hills, but rich in 
soil bearing within its bosom the germ of royalty in 
King Cotton, hailed too soon as king, reversing the 
French formulary, Le Roi est mort , vive le Roi , to 
Vive le Roi , le Roi est mort. 

The cleared grounds on the sea-islands lay in 
rectangles of various size and shape, determined by 
the shape and size of the islands themselves, leav- 
ing now deep belts of pine, live-oak, and palmetto, 
now mere fringes along their sides. Beyond, on 

( 3 ) 


4 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


the side towards the mainland, were broad manors 
intersected by' numerous streams; and on the ocean 
side, long, low, deserted beaches and inlets, with 
naught in sight for hours, save buzzards wheeling in 
their ceaseless watch. In the deep woods sheltered 
many a fallow deer, roamed many a “ marsh-tackey,’ , 
hardy nag, rejoicing in a liberty which, even when 
lost, was not followed by severer servitude than 
bearing about at a canter, with much division of 
labor among his fellows, his easy-going master or 
mistress. Asses too were there, foaled and run 
wild from a few pairs of parent stock, and, without 
knowing anything of Scriptural injunction, increas- 
ing and multiplying most recklessly. From much 
walking on marshy, yielding shores, the ever-grow- 
ing hoof had turned up skate-like in front, and na- 
ture had furnished them for protection in their wild 
state with great shaggy coats, developed about head 
and shoulders into a rugged mane. Staring out 
from the shelter of a copse upon the passer-by, one 
might realize that the Ass of the Fable was not 
such an ass after all, to think that with a lion’s skin 
he could pass himself off for the king ot beasts. 
Such an apparition seen amidst the leafage, followed 
by a rush and a bray like that of a discordant trom- 
bone, might readily for a moment make one think 
he heard a roar. 

A dense fog enshrouded the landscape, although 
the sun did at intervals illumine it with a transient 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


5 


golden hue, lifting it enough to let me see the sand- 
pipers along the beach flit in their short flights be- 
fore me, alight and see-saw on their long legs, as if 
loaded with quicksilver shifting from end to end, 
then away, scarcely distinguishable from the foam 
borne along the beach by the rising morning wind. 

There are times when gun or rod seems mere 
pleasant companionship. The supreme stillness, 
broken only by the plash of the tiny ripple on the 
beach, a miniature breaker; the inclosing fog, limit- 
ing for me the visible world to a little circle of 
light, gave the imagination freer play in picturing 
space. Could this be the same ocean that some of 
the wisest of the ancients thought the Universal 
Mother, heaved, even when calmest, to its pro- 
foundest depths by the breathing of the mysterious 
old man, Demagorgon, ensconced in the centre of 
the earth ? And this gently rising zephyr — could 
it be related to those winds set free by iEolus, that 
tear sails from their bolt-ropes and, conspiring with 
the waves, shatter the stanchest ships? The quiet 
had cast its spell upon me sauntering listlessly 
along, inhaling the fresh air, awake to the keen 
sense of animal existence, to the exhilarating influ- 
ence ol a new-born day. 

“The ocean,” I went on musing, “impresses itself 
upon mankind as always roaring, because of oui 
usual experience of it as seen from shore, upon 
which it sets with foaming fury, or from aboard a 


6 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


ship, buffeted by surges that crash against her sides 
like strokes from a leviathan. But how different 
the impressions of aeronauts who in their balloons 
have sailed over the sea, sometimes descending so 
as almost to touch its bosom. I remember the 
account of two such, who, leaving at sunset the 
shores of England, traversed all France by night, 
looking down upon unconscious gas-lit cities glit- 
tering below ; of another, who solitarily supped 
while crossing the Alps by moonlight, and flung 
his emptied champagne bottle out on Jura’s peak ; 
and of still another, who, lowered nearly to the 
sea, swept along for miles almost grazing its dark 
expanse. By all these the silence of the sea was 
described as oppressive, part of the awfulness of 
space, unbroken even by the aeolian music of the 
spheres. The sea — ” At this point in my reverie 
a rich, unctuous voice reached my ear, as the figure 
of a negro emerged from the fog into the halo 
around me, and, slouching off his limp felt hat with 
a flourish, said : — 

“ I’se been a-lookin’ fo’ you, massa. Massa 
D’Esty sen.’ me to fine you, to say would you like to 
go deer-huntin’ dis mornin’ ef de fog breaks away. 
An’, ef you’se agreeable to breakfuss, he says it ’ll - 
be sarved in a hour, an’ I’m to show you de way 
home, short-cut ; but I’se awful skeered dat dere 
way, I is, kase he ’s so full ob rattlesnakes. I sh’d 
tink you’d be done tuckered out, massa, huntin’ so 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


7 


arly, wid nothin 5 on your stomach ; ef you ’ll ’scuse 
me, sail — axing your pardon — but I disremember de 
name of de genelman, sah, ef you’ll ’scuse me.” 

“Mr. Fortescue,” I replied. 

“ Our Jane alius did say I was an ill-mannered 
cuss,” resumed my interlocutor. “You mustn’t 
mind me, massa, ef I done wrong. I’se not one ob 
de reg’lar house sarvants ; I’se one ob de field hands, 
I is. Dey on’y calls me in to black boots and sich- 
like when dey’se wisitors to de house — yes, sah. I’se 
de boy Sam* what blacks your boots when you puts 
dem out at night.” 

“Well, Sam,” said I, “you just relieve me of 
my gun. I ’ll not go any further. There, sling it 
around your shoulders by the strap ; I ’ll carry the 
powder-flask and shot-pouch. There ’s the game- 
bag, too ; that won’t hurt you to carry.” 

“Dere’s not a fedder’s weight to it,” remarked 
Sam, as we turned along the beach together in the 
opposite direction from that which I had been pur- 
suing. “ What has Mass’ Fort’scue been doin’ all 
dis blessed mornin’, totin’ dat gun along de beach 
for ?” 

“Sam,” said I, sententiously, “there are a great 
many things not dreamed of in your philosophy. 
In the first place, the only living thing I ’d seen to 
shoot this morning were sand-pipers — they’re no 
game ; the only thing I see at present is yourself — 
are you ?” 


8 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ H’yah, h’yah!” screamed Sam ; “ massa, you ’ll 
not shoot dis nigger — kase he’s game anyways. 
He ’s an awful coward ; hain’t got no call to be 
brave. He’s wuth fifteen hunred to two tousand 
dollars in his massa’s right, so his massa ’s got to be 
brave for him. I ’spects dat ’s pretty ’spensive kine 
ob shootin, dat ar — h’yah, h’yah, h’yah, golly!” 

“ I say, Mass’ Fort’scue,” said Sam, as I glanced 
around, “ we’se pretty nigh down to Stono Inlet, 
you know, and we’se got to walk a pretty smart 
ways afore we strikes de short-cut I .tole you on. 
Dere’s tongues ob mash runnin’ into dis here end 
ob de island. Ef you wants to git froo in time for 
breakfuss, you ’ll have to git.” 

Having thus stimulated me to increase my pace 
along the beach, Sam continued to rattle on in his 
talk. 

u Mass’ Fort’scue, you’se up in book-larnin’ and 
all dat. Now, does you know why rattlesnake’s 
fat ’s jest de best ting out for rheumatiz ?” 

“ Well, Sam,” said I, “ I should think it would 
not differ much pathologically from other oils, or 
that, if it does, it would be of any use to your 
people, who are so mortally afraid of the snakes, 
even if there were any fat to speak of to get.” 

“ I don’t know nothin’ about paterlogical,” said 
Sam ; “ but you’se wrong, Mass’ Fort’scue, ef you’ll 
’scuse me, wid all your book lamin’. You’se wrong 
in relations to de critter on ebery pint. Now, in 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


9 


de fust place, I tell you, and all de cullud people 
knows it, dat no med’cin doctor in de Ian’ has any- 
ting dat ’ll hole a cannel to it for rheumatiz — it 
comes afore goose grease. It’s jest de ticket for 
dat air disease wid which mostly us darkeys is 
afflicted wid — dat ’s why dey knows. And as for 
fat in dem snakes, dar ’s wliar you’se wrong agin, 
Mass’ Fort’scue. By de time de summer’s ober, 
and a rattlesnake hain’t found no flesh of man or 
beast to strike, he ’s jest that swelled wid fat and 
pizen he’s like to bust. When de winter do set in, 
he strikes a tree an’ kills it to let his pizen off, and 
his fat keeps him for de winter — dat’s how it is. 
6 Wid de wisdom of de sarpint,’ ” added Sam, in a 
sing-song tone, as if that were a clincher to the 
truth of his statements. 

“ And here we are at last,” exclaimed Sam, after 
a few minutes’ brisk walk, “ at de place whar Rat- 
tlesnake Walk comes out from de bushes on to de 
beach. Now we’se in it. De way I does myself, 
Mass’ Fort’scue, wheneber I’se obleeged to go dis 
way, is to keep a-saying, I reckon I ’ll see a snake ; 
kase, you know, what you ’spects don’t happen, 
and what you don’t ’spect happens.” 

“ Sam, you fool,” said I, provoked at the silliness 
of the fellow, “ don’t you see that the words don’t 
agree with your hopes and expectations, and, even 
if they did, your hopes and expectations have nothing 
to do with the result ?” 


10 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ I’se ’feard you’se too deep forme,” replied Sam, 
in a reflective tone. 

“ Are you saying that charm to yourself, now ?” 
I inquired. 

“ Yes, indeedy, I is,” replied Sam. “ I’se said it 
ever sense we struck de paff.” 

“ It ’s broken, then,” I rejoined, having caught 
sight, simultaneously with my question, of a rattle- 
snake come out to sun itself, and as I received Sam’s 
reply, raising my fowling-piece and shooting it dead. 
“ There it is, Sam, near the stump ; pick it up and 
come along.” 

Sam picked it up, and continued to follow slightly 
in the rear, with his trained instinct of deference 
towards his superiors, dangling and swinging the 
rattlesnake in triumph, and whistling some fantasia 
of his own composition. 

The manor-house was now visible through the 
trees in the bright morning sunbeams, before which 
the fog had retreated far out to sea and lay banked 
upon the horizon, soon to vanish entirely with the 
advance of day. 


CHAPTER II. 


The manor-house, familiar to me by a visit of 
two or three days, growing out of acquaintance 
made in the North, the reader not having yet seen, 
I will describe. 

It was a long, two-storied frame house, without 
any architectural pretension, supported on short 
square stuccoed pillars, therefore without cellar, 
and having at each story a piazza running entirely 
around the building. What it lacked in beauty 
was made up for by its spaciousness, and those fine 
piazzas, around which one could promenade in fair 
or foul weather, commanding a view of the surround- 
ing country. Close to the house, but not so oppres- 
sively as to shut out light and air, were oaks, show- 
ing through the openings glimpses of the rows of 
negro quarters composed of cabins, each of which 
was a modicum of room for a single family. 

Colonel D’Esty, my host, was a widower, of some 
fifty-five years of age, with an only daughter. In 
person tall and muscular, his carriage was erect and 
dignified. He had that peachy-bloom in his com- 

(in 


12 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


plexion which indicates a good heart, a good diges- 
tion, and easy circumstances — in a word, full enjoy- 
ment of life. He was both a walker and a rider, still 
fond of the out-door sports of his earlier days. In 
manner he had an urbanity which few Northerners 
possess, the fruit of culture in association with equals 
and inferiors, in a country where position was well 
defined, having also its recognized responsibilities, 
to which it was held to strict account by a code of 
honor far wider reaching than that of the duel, which 
formed but an item in the pact by which the South- 
erner of rank was guided in his social intercourse. 

Miss D’Esty was a fair Southerner of seventeen, 
lady-like, without being stylish, often so miscalled 
from the latest mode caricatured. Her features, 
bearing the impress of good birth and refinement, 
were shaded by long wavy masses of hair sweeping 
low over her temples, and twisted into a rich golden 
knot behind, as if with abundant wealth to spare. 
The plain dress that formed her usual costume did 
not disguise the distinguished air often possessed by 
Southern women, despite quaint inaptnesses of those 
living habitually on plantations, which they, with 
eye unrefreshed by the fashions of large cities, inevi- 
tably exhibited, so as to make some even of the best 
born and bred recognizable by outside barbarians. 
But they were at least never, as women often were 
elsewhere, shoppy. 

Slavery here presented itself under its most amia- 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


13 


ble aspect. There was no bullying overseer, making 
life miserable with lash whistling about the cringing 
victim. We are on the plantation of a gentleman 
whose lines have lain in pleasant places ; who feels 
well disposed towards all the world ; believes firmly 
that it would be hard to cite any institution better 
adapted to special human needs than that of slavery 
to the child-like nature of the negro, belonging to 
so inferior a race that, for his own good, he ought 
to be under tutelage to the white man, to whom he 
looks up as to his natural protector. 

As I approached the house I could distinguish 
my host walking to and fro on the lower piazza, 
now and then pausing, and, I could fancy, glancing 
with pride over his ancestral acres. In a few mo- 
ments I found myself at the foot of the flight of 
steps leading to the piazza, which he descended to 
greet me, Miss D’Esty appearing at the front door, 
saying good morning and retiring in the act of join- 
ing her father as he ushered me in to breakfast, just 
served and announced by a sable functionary of 
traditionally dignified demeanor, Caesar, the butler 
of the establishment. 

I think I forgot to mention that a sweet Southern 
voice fitly completed Miss D’Esty’s personal attrac- 
tions. It sounded not the less sweetly in my famish- 
ed state by descending to sublunary consideration of 
the comfort of the inner man. 

The table was spread with the profusion and kind 


14 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


of dishes for which the South was famed — delicate 
preparations of corn bread, the daintiest hominy, 
white as the driven snow, to which was added 
plenty of sea-food, fish and crabs, cooked in various 
ways. 

If, after a long morning walk, I had not felt com- 
fortable at this hospitable board, ministered to by 
my kind host and hostess, I must have been either 
out of health and spirits or most ungrateful. All 
the elements of enjoyment were present, not least 
the reposeful grace, free of apologetic shifts, that is 
the pink of courtesy. 

“ Do let me give you another cup of coffee, Mr. 
Fortescue, ,, struck in Miss D’Esty, in one of the 
pauses in the conversation. “ And let me, sir,” 
chimed in the Colonel, u if you will not try another 
piece of partridge, recommend a slice of this cold 
ham.” 

“ I am proud of my hams, sir,” continued the 
Colonel, with that loftiness with which Southerners 
were wont to discuss their own products, as if be- 
longing to a class of personal attributes not indeli- 
cate to mention and praise. “Look at the golden 
fat, sir; just thick enough, too. We are very care- 
ful, sir, not to get the fat too thick. A hog, sir, 
may be too fat for flavor. Observe the redness of 
the lean clear down to the bone. No better ham, 
sir, ever came from Westphalia. It has been in 
my smoke-house these two years. Boiled in cham- 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


15 


pagne, baked in the skin, it ’s food for the gods, sir. 
My dear (to the daughter), send me just a morsel of 
the white meat of that partridge,” added the Colo- 
nel, shunning the food for the gods, of which planters 
saw a little too much, and turning to me with an- 
other delicate slice of ham cut in the spirit of a true 
epicure. 

“No, thanks,” said -I, “I have breakfasted.” 

“No more? — not a morsel? nor anything else? 
No?” said Mr. D’Esty, with polite insistance. 
“Well, if you have really breakfasted, we will go 
see some of my people in regard to succor that I 
have sent to a brig that has been stranded on the 
beach some miles away. The people are all safe ; it 
is merely a question of cargo. I must also hurry 
up some to get everything ready for the hunt. I 
must show you my kennels, too ; you haven’t seen 
them yet. I have a fine pack of hounds, as you 
will see. I hope I haven’t bored you about my 
hams. Talk to a man about eating when you want 
him to eat, or when he is eating, but not just after 
he has eaten. In one of your restaurants up North 
the waiter actually asked me, when I called for my 
bill, what I had had. 4 Why, damn it, fellow,’ said 
I, 4 do you think I keep an account of my dinner 
while I ’m eating it. Send me your master.’ 

44 Oh, papa !” said Miss D’Esty. 

44 I beg pardon most sincerely,” said the Colonel, 
laughing. “ The fact is, my dear sir, I forget that 


16 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


my daughter is no longer a chit of a girl. Mr. For- 
tescue will accept this apology for breach of decorum 
in the presence of a lady.” 

Thus speaking the Colonel glanced towards his 
daughter, upon which she rose, followed by us, and, 
I apologizing for leaving her so abruptly, she re- 
sponded by cautioning me in my inexperience of 
deer-hunting against succumbing to the “buck 
fever,” adding a last word about not allowing our- 
selves to be too late for dinner, to which guests 
were expected. The Colonel and I then took our 
departure, hastening off to attend to the various 
matters of duty and pleasure claiming his attention ; 
first in order of which came transportation for the 
cargo of the wreck, and the visit to the kennels and 
stables ; then our mounts were to be chosen, and 
afterwards guns and ammunition carefully inspected. 


CHAPTER III. 


The matter of assistance to the people at the 
wreck required very little attention, seeing that 
they, being ridiculously safe, high and dry ashore, 
were in need only of transportation for their cargo 
and personal effects across the island. The crew 
being sufficiently strong-handed to attend to dis- 
charging the cargo on the beach, the only thing 
remaining to be done was to place at the cap- 
tain’s disposal a sufficient number of horses, carts, 
and teamsters for the land service ; the nearest 
point for procuring the necessary boats for the 
inland passage being Charleston. So, when the 
Colonel, accompanied by me, had reached the negro 
quarters, he had but to summon the carpenter of 
the plantation, and commit the task of assisting the 
wrecked people to his care. Notified of the demand 
for his presence by a little nig, whose legs flew 
away so fast with him as to endanger, if that were 
possible, his bullet head, the carpenter soon appeared, 
and, respectfully uncovering to his master, exposing 
a frosty pow, awaited attentively his commands. 

2 ( 17 ) 


18 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ Benjamin,” said the Colonel to the old man, 
“you will collect all the carts and draught horses 
on the place, and as many of the people as are 
necessary for teamsters and loading, go to the wreck 
on the beach, of which you have heard, and place 
yourself, with my compliments, at the disposal of 
the captain. I hear that he is a Yankee, and so, 
of course, he does not know our Southern ways. 
No pay for such assistance, you will respectfully 
inform him, in case of his offering, is accepted by a 
Southern gentleman. If we have not enough trans- 
portation for his purposes, you will send a boy to 
General Blaisdell’s, and request, with my service, 
the loan of as many additional horses and carts as 
will suffice.” 

We now entered the broad space between the 
double rows of negro cabins facing each other, the 
short street of the settlement forming the negro 
quarters. As we walked along I had ample oppor- 
tunity to look about, taking in the scenes novel to 
me, a man from the Middle States and but recent 
traveller^in the South. The Colonel stopped from 
time to time, now to the right, now to the left, at 
an open door or in front of a cabin, giving the 
owner a good-morning, and making some hearty 
inquiry about his or her own health, or about the 
ailments of another. 

The cabins were nicely whitewashed, and looked 
sweet and clean. Through the gaps between them 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


19 . 


showed at a short distance off the little garden 
patches in which the negroes raised vegetables for 
their own use; at a little further. still, pig-pens in 
which they kept their pigs, except some little 
shoats, which, by right of babyhood, had penetrated 
into the street and made themselves at home amid 
a tribe of wandering dogs, plentiful as in Damascus. 
Cocks, often partly game, strutted about, followed 
by their docile families ; the crowing and cackling 
putting the finishing touch of rural life to this 
domestic scene. 

On the doorsteps, the sills, just inside the door, 
or on the ground outside, were seated, for enjoyment 
of the sun, here a grandame, there a rheumatic 
object ; again, singly, or in clusters of twos and 
threes, chubby little, curly -headed pickaninnies, 
gravely pondering the problem of existence. Their 
short, single garment revealed their ebon limbs, 
fixed in cataleptic trance ; their eyes, staring almost 
out of the sockets, with might and main, in admi- 
ration and awe of the triumphal progress through 
their village of two of the kings of men. Meanwhile 
the royal progress w r as delayed by stoppages and 
phrases, such as these : — 

“Good morning, Uncle John; how’s your sore 
foot?” 

“ It’s gwine along slow,” says Uncle John ; “ but 
bress the Lord, it ’s gwine along ; de old man can’t 
complain.” 


20 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ I say, Aunty, good morning” (to an old crone, 
who is evidently deaf). “ Got over the abscess in 
your ear ; — hearing any better — and your rheuma- 
tism?” 

Old Aunty answers, mumbling, “ No, no, Massa, 
never no better, till I go to de oder world ; den I 
hear de angels sing, and see de ’tarnal brightness. 
No more deafness and misery in de legs, den — glory 
be to God ! Pse too old to live much longer, 
Massa.” 

“ Pshaw,” says the Colonel ; “ you don’t know 
how old you are.” 

“ Oh, yes, I does, Massa. I’se eighty and up- 
wards,” persists Aunty ; “ and deaf, arid got the 
misery in the j’ints.” 

“Well, well, Aunty,” says the Colonel, walking 
away to speak to some one else ; “ we will do every- 
thing we can for you. You shall have doctor, medi- 
cine, anything you please from the house.” 

“ Oh, yes, I knows it,” mumbles Aunty as we 
retire ; “ I knows it, Massa ; you’se a good massa, 
you is.” 

Passing several doors, with a cheery word to one 
or other of the invalids or superannuated, we come 
opposite to one, and distinguish, back in the dark- 
ened room, a woman, her elbows planted on her 
knees, face buried in her hands, moaning and 
rocking to and fro. “Well, Celie,” says the master, 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


21 


“how goes it; what’s the matter? — the child not 
worse, I hope?” 

“ Dead, Massa — dead, dead, dead ! dis mornin’ 
arly,” moans the woman, resuming her rocking to 
and fro. 

“ Well, Celie,” replies the Colonel, “ I am sorry- 
enough for you. Send word to Miss D’Esty, and 
she’ll have everything done. Come, Mr. Fortes- 
cue,” lowering his tone, “ it is no use to stay here ; 
we can do no good. Good morning, Celie ; your 
mistress will visit you. Poor woman — she’s a good 
creature. I am very, very sorry for her. All her 
people are among the best we have on the planta- 
tion.” 

We had reached the end of the rows of cabins, 
and were coming out into the open, when the clatter 
of horses’ hoofs caused us to glance to the right, 
where we caught sight of a party of ladies and 
gentlemen on horseback, whom the Colonel saluted 
at the distance, out of earshot, by waving his hat, 
adding to me, “ The friends from neighboring plan- 
tations, whom we were expecting, to spend the day 
and night.” 

The party, consisting of two young ladies, two 
gentlemen, and a boy, had soon left the open road 
and galloped over to us, where they reined in, glow- 
ing with the life and spirit attendant upon a smart 
gallop in joyous company. 

“ Welcome, welcome,” cried the Colonel, as the 


22 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


horses, pawing impatiently and champing their bits, 
carried their riders in eddies around us, “ welcome 
to the manor. You cavaliers will please escort these 
damozels to the house, and, if you would like, rejoin 
us and pay a visit with us to the stables and kennels. 
But allow me, first, to present my friend, Mr. For- 
tescue, of New York. Miss Betty Cressance, Mr. 
Fortescue ( garde d vous, demi-tour — a saucy minx), 
Miss Alice Dubreuil (more sedate — but still w r aters, 
you know), Mr. Anderson, Mr. Blaisdell ; last and 
least , Master Tom Sykes.” 

The ladies and gentlemen bowed as I raised my 
hat to each in turn, indicated by the wave of the 
Colonel’s hand, Miss Cressance flicking a fly from 
her horse’s arched neck, making him curvet, as she 
replied roguishly to the Colonel : — 

“Very well, Colonel, I observed you say some- 
thing to Mr. Fortescue in an undertone, doubtless 
descriptive of us. A woman’s right is to know a 
secret.” 

“ And privilege and pleasure to tell it,” retorted 
the Colonel. 

“ Certainly,” said Miss Cressance, after another 
curvet, in which the fly would have been unseated 
without aid from the whip. “ Our privilege is to 
dispose of things generally, so we don’t intend the 
gentlemen to go to the dogs with you. They will 
escort us to the house, and remain in attendance. 
A pretty how d’ye do, to be deserted by our cava- 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


23 


liers in favor of dogs and horses. Au revoir , 
gentlemen — hold, what time do you start on the 
hunt, Colonel ?” 

“As soon as we can get ready — say in half an 
hour.” 

“ Well,” rejoined Miss Cressance, “ don’t be gone 
long — that’s a dear, good soul. How shall we ever 
do without all of you gentlemen ?” 

“ A nice confession for one of the queens of the 
world,” laughed the Colonel. 

“ Oh, we regard you only as conveniences,” cried 
Miss Cressance, and giving rein to her horse and a 
cut of the whip, she bounded away at full gallop, 
followed by the rest of the party. 

“There they go,” said the Colonel. “Youth, 
health, high spirits do possess the earth and the 
fulness thereof ; but, to the stables, where my people 
must have everything ready by this time, for I sent 
a servant with a message before breakfast.” 

Outside the stables we found the hostler, assisted 
by my old friend, Sam, putting the finishing touches 
to the grooming of the three or four horses, among 
which our choice was to be made for mounts to the 
scene of the morning’s sport. Inside appeared three 
or four more, of which two were blood-stock ; the 
Colonel, like many other rich planters, having at 
one period of his life taken great interest in the 
raising of horses for the race-course. 

After being shown these veterans by the Colonel, 


24 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


and heard their points descanted upon, we came out, 
and I, for my mount, chose from the horses under 
the hands of the hostlers a stout “ marsh-tackey,” 
much commended by the Colonel and Sam for his 
pleasant gait and spirit ; the Colonel taking his 
favorite hunter, on which within a few weeks he 
had followed the fox-hounds, a pack of which was 
kept on a neighboring plantation. 

As we were leaving the stables, up came three 
young negro fellows, leading to them by the bridles 
the horses of the cavalcade just passed; the horses 
of the two gentlemen visitors to be freshened up 
before their new start by watering and a touch with 
the brush. Following in the rear, picking her way 
coquettishly over rills and around stones, came r 
dainty mulatto girl, wearing a handsome bandanna 
handkerchief as a turban, but otherwise dressed 
with that style which betokened near contact with 
the mistress, and a plentiful supply of cast-off gar- 
ments. In fact, I recognized at a glance the girl 
of whom I had sometimes caught a glimpse at the 
house, whom Sam had called Jane, Miss D’Esty’s 
waiting-maid. What a stunning creature ! So Sam 
evidently thought, as he ducked sheepishly behind 
the horse to which he was giving a final grooming 
with a wisp of straw, chuckling while the young 
woman handed with many airs and graces a folded 
slip of paper to her master, saying : “ If you please, 
from missus. ” 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


25 


“ Tell your mistress,” said the Colonel, after 
glancing at the paper, “that we cannot possibly 
dine before four o’clock, but I will see her before I 
go, about the wine. Now, Mr. Fortescue, to the 
kennels, to see how far they are advanced there. 
Boys, bring our horses across when they are ready. 
Jim, tell David to look to the guns in the racks. 
We shall want some shot for turkeys, besides the 
buckshot for deer. Before you bring our horses 
over take their horses to the gentlemen at the house, 
and tell them that we ’ll be up in a minute, bringing 
the huntsman and the wliippers-in with us from the 
kennels. Now, Mr. Fortescue, a minute or two at 
the kennels will suffice.” 

As we walked towards the kennels, about a hun- 
dred yards distant, pleasantly situated on a slope 
with a southeastern exposure, protected sufficiently 
from the north and east by a growth of small timber, 
the Colonel resumed — 

“You may not be aware, sir, never having turned 
your attention to hunting, that the modern fox-hound 
and stag-hound, which latter we improperly call 
deer-hound, are essentially the same animal, derived 
from the old sleuth or blood-hound crossed with the 
wiry-haired grey-hound (identical with the old deer- 
hound) ; and, perhaps, at some time remotely, but 
that is doubtful, with the bull-dog. You are at least 
familiar, sir, with the appearance of the original 
deer-hound through the picture of Sir Walter Scott’s 


26 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


favorite Maida, which was as nearly full blood as 
any of those hounds are at present. Those deer- 
hounds have ceased to exist, sir, as formerly, in 
packs. Her Britannic Majesty, however, has a few 
of them. They remain only as single retainers in 
old families, more as emblematic of ancient race and 
grandeur than for hunting service, just as (although 
there is but little hawking now-a-days) falcons are 
bred and raised by some families to this day. 

“Well, sir, the modern hounds all partake more 
or less of the same blood — beagles, harriers, and all. 
It is education, chiefly, that has made the difference 
that we observe among them. The stag-hound, in 
fact, is a large fox-hound, and the fox-hound is a 
small stag-hound. ,, 

By this time we had reached the kennels, which 
to my uneducated eye presented every appearance 
of neatness and comfort in spacious lodging-rooms, 
sufficient in number for the accommodation of dogs 
in some of them, while in others dogs were being 
washed and dried. A yard opening from them was 
fitted with an open shed, where the dogs could lie in 
shade in the open air, or protected in bad weather. 
There was a boiling-room for the preparation of their 
food — meat and broth, constituting the “ pudding” 
or the porridge, depending upon the degree to which 
the broth is thickened with meal; the meat from 
which the broth is made being mixed in small 
pieces with the broth. Near by was a paddock for 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


27 


them to enjoy the luxury of a grassy roll and 
nibble. 

“This, sir,” resumed the Colonel, after he had 
allowed me to glance around, “ is of course far in- 
ferior to kennels in England, where many men of 
high rank spend their whole thought and time upon 
the royal sport or the noble science, as deer-hunting 
and fox-hunting are respectively called. But you 
know that, although we chase the fox in this part of 
the country, we generally shoot the deer, as we in- 
tend this morning to do, from stands. These ken- 
nels, as I was observing, sir, are far inferior to the 
English — not to be spoken of in the same breath, 
sir. In England you will find, as I have seen, ken- 
nels with quarters for the keepers, and stables for 
the horses they use ; all fitted up with the most per- 
fect adaptation to the end in view. That belongs 
to English thoroughness. Even if our hunting war- 
ranted it, it would be impossible with negroes to 
keep such kennels. But, as far as mine go, they 
are very well, sir ; a fine pack of hounds, too, sir, I 
have, as I told you, although small. Here, Moses,” 
added he, addressing the man who was huntsman 
and keeper combined, “ you can let the hounds out 
now, I see the horses coming; we are ready.” 

Of the hounds, about fifteen couples in number, 
ten couples had been drafted into a separate lodging- 
room for the morning’s sport. When the outer door 
of this was opened, they trooped out and scattered 


28 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


over a small area, kept within bounds by the 
mounted wliippers-in. 

Hounds have not so much sportiveness as is shown 
by some other dogs in their release from confine- 
ment, when many vent their exuberance of spirits 
and joy by frisking in every direction. They are 
moody, and seem to have no existence but for the 
chase and gluttony. The slinking brutes, white, 
with large black and tawny patches on head, flanks, 
and croup, tall and sinewy, long in thigh, built 
expressly for speed and endurance, with sombre 
face and long, pendent, velvety ears, sauntered about, 
wound to and fro, or sat on their haunches, venting 
prodigious gapes. 

Sam and the hostler soon appeared, leading the 
Colonel’s horse and mine. We mounted, and Moses 
and his two assistants, the whippers-in, already 
in the saddle, on 11 marsh-tackeys,” got the hounds 
together, and we found ourselves en route right 
merrily, amid the shouts of the negroes sallying 
from their quarters and the cracking of whips, while 
Sam and the hostler trotted on before to the door of 
the manor-house, where were Messrs. Blaisdell and 
Anderson, already mounted. The fowling-pieces, 
duly loaded with fourteen buckshot apiece, were 
handed down from the piazza, and, saluted by the 
ladies waving their handkerchiefs, wishing us good 
luck, we started afresh with increased noise and 
tumult, attended for some distance by a disorderly 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


29 


cortege of young negroes, making handsprings, turn- 
ing cart-wheels and somersaults, and cutting all 
sorts of capers in sympathy with the expedition. 

These gradually dropped off one by one, upon the 
quickening of our pace. Colonel D’Esty rode beside 
the two visitors, extending to them the courtesies 
due to new arrivals. The hounds jogged along the 
road ahead, scattered in single files, by twos and 
threes, or running in irregular groups, with drooping 
tails, showing no particular animation, but looking 
as if bent on business and a destination. 

The day was beautiful now ; the time about ten 
o’clock. The Colonel, at a turn of the road, sig- 
nalled me to ride up, and said, as I reached the 
party in advance : — 

“ A southerly wind and a cloudy sky, you know, 
Mr. Fortescue, the old song says, proclaim it a 
hunting morning. It is not cloudy, you see, but we 
have a southerly wind. I have found these foggy 
mornings, the scent invariably lies well. It stands 
to reason, sir, the famous Beckford to the contrary 
notwithstanding. Fine sunshine doesn’t make a 
good hunting day, true ; but, when it has been foggy, 
as this morning, although it may have turned out 
fine afterwards, evaporation has been checked, and 
the scent must lie. Sti — , see the dogs now ; they 
show more life as we approach the covert. I say, 
what a puling, mawkish philosophy of weak-chested 
parsons that terms all sport cruelty. Admitted, 


30 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


gentlemen, that it contains that element. But 
everything on earth grows and thrives at the ex- 
pense of something else. A fox, let us say, dies, as 
he might have died at the hands of a farmer, but 
dies in the chase. The horse, as the remote con- 
sequence, becomes better bred throughout all the 
varieties, which may tell in the cavalry in a country’s 
defence; and thousands of men receive new life and 
spirit as their blood courses madly through their 
veins in the ambitious struggle for mastery in the 
field. In its athletic sports the standard of a nation’s 
manliness is raised.” 

“ What you say,” remarked Mr. . Anderson, a 
young man of about twenty-six years of age, a recent 
graduate of Harvard, “ reminds me of some of the 
vagaries of our part of the country. There we find 
a class of so-called religious works for children, so 
imaginatively untrue, that the infant mind rejects 
them as containing no moral law of which it is 
conscious.” 

“ Positively, gentlemen,” cried the Colonel, “ we 
are all sermonizing along the road. Excuse me for 
saying so, who began it. See the dogs now, and 
let the weak-chested parsons go where they belong 
— together. See the dogs, now that we are fairly 
in the woods. See how they change their drooping 
look to brightness at the nearing sport. 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


31 


* My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, 

So flewed, so sanded ; and their heads are hung 

With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; 

Crook -kneed, and dew-lapped, like Thessalian hulls ; 

Slow in pursuit, hut matched in mouth like hells.’ 

Those must have been the old Southern hound, or 
blood-hound : the modern hound is faster and less 
bass. But if he gives tongue less deeply, it must 
be to the full as sweet.” 

“A splendid description, Colonel,” said Mr. 
Blaisdell ; “ but, in point of finish, perhaps not equal 
to Somerville’s.'” 

“How does that go?” inquired the Colonel. 

“Dispersed ; how busily this way and that 
They cross, examining with curious nose 
Each likely haunt. Hark, on the drag I hear 
Their doubtful notes preluding to a cry, 

More nobly full and swelled with every mouth.” 

“ Good,” said the Colonel — “ the difference be- 
tween a piece by Michael Angelo and one by Raphael 
— the one wholly grand, the other simply beautiful. 
But, here we are at last. Now, Moses, you, with the 
whippers-in, keep along the road for about a mile, 
then turn into the woods, up wind on the right, and 
make a cast with the hounds. I will station the 
gentlemen.” 

The huntsman cantered off slowly through the 
wood-road, followed by his assistants, with their long 
whips keeping the dogs from ranging into the woods 


32 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


until they had reached their destination. The 
Colonel then took us one by one, and after a few 
short gallops through bridle-paths in different direc- 
tions, had succeeded in placing each at the stand at 
which he was to await the deer. 

I found myself stationed near a glade by the 
margin of a rill, crossed by the simplest of rustic 
bridges, consisting of two beams covered with plank. 
Judging by the direction that the Colonel had taken 
in stationing the others first, and the time consumed, 
I imagined that we were all at intervals along the 
same watercourse. 

There was a deep hush for some minutes after I 
had been left by the. Colonel. I looked about, ad- 
miring the beauty of this sequestered spot, the foliage 
almost inclosing the purling stream as it passed 
uuder the moss-grown bridge. Suddenly, down the 
breeze came the faint babbling of some young dog ; 
then the sharp yelp of one that in his leap had 
perhaps fallen backward over the brink of a stream ; 
followed by the sympathetic response of his fellows ; 
and imperturbable silence seemingly reigned again. 
But now a deep tone broke into its midst, the knell 
of the hunted deer, the deep, solemn bay of the 
leader of the pack proclaimed its doom. The knell 
sounded again, joined by other voices — a chime of 
various notes arose as the baying of the whole pack 
swelled in chorus. Steadily it seemed to come 
nearer, musically it floated away, rising, anon falling, 


UNDER TtA PALMETTO. 


33 


borne away almost to whisperings, then freshly 
breaking forth again. Again it sank to murmuring, 
rising this time with a gush of sound, the whole pack 
in full cry, every note distinguishable, from the deep 
bay of the veteran hounds to the emulous tenor of 
the youngest scions of their stock, blending in joyous 
unison. The forest is sonorous with the peal, when 
suddenly the brushwood crackled near me, and, 
with a final crash, is riven in a track through which 
bounds a stag, halts as he alights in the open space, 
and stands for a moment poised, motionless as 
marble. The next, I raised my gun — fired, and he 
fell dead, so beautiful even then that my satisfaction 
was marred by a deep pang of regret. 

From every direction the life of the hunt poured 
into the open space — the leaders of the pack fol- 
lowed by all their train, the Colonel and his guests, 
and finally the huntsman and the wliippers-in — to 
the merry music of the hunting horn. 

The hounds, roused from their sluggishness, 
wandered around and sniffed the prize as if they 
owned a share, and, when rudely repulsed, sulked 
off moodily, as if indignant ; but, although repulsed, 
still wandered around with eye askance, in timid 
protestation of unacknowledged right to share at 
once the spoils. 

“ A splendid cast,” cried the Colonel to Moses. 
“ Now get the boys to help you heave the deer out 
of the hounds’ way upon the lower limb of that 
3 


34 


UNDER THE ‘PALMETTO. 


tree, and make another cast, more to the southwest, 
starting off from the wood at about the same point. 
The pack is well trained now, and no longer runs 
riot of foxes, as it did last year.” 

In a few minutes the Colonel had again posted 
the party, shifting me to another place, as I had 
occupied the favorite “ run” of the deer, and, as 
before, reserving for himself the poorest stand of 
all, than- which, to a keen sportsman, there is no 
severer test of friendship and hospitality. 

Meanwhile, Moses and his men had got far away, 
and soon we heard the preluding whimper and cries, 
the deep, bell-like notes, and the forest was again 
alive with sylvan melody. A faint report was 
heard in the distance, the winding of the horn, and 
the scene of the half-hour before was repeated, as 
hunters and hounds converged upon the stand from 
which the shot was fired — this time, Mr. Blaisdell 
the lucky man. 

An hour or. two were spent in the neighboring 
wood-paths and thickets, bagging a few wild turkeys, 
and then, the deer slung over the pommels of the 
saddles of the whippers-in, the whole party at a 
canter turned towards the manor-house, beyond 
which we rode and stayed for a few minutes to see 
the hounds take their food and greedily devour their 
tid-bit share of the product of the hunt, the refuse 
parts of the deer. Turning bridle again we were 
soon in front of the manor-house, dismounting and 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


35 


turning over the horses to eager grooms, who vied 
with each other to obtain the privilege of the short 
ride to the stables. 

It was half-past two. We dined at four, so we 
had just time to make ourselves presentable before 
appearing. 

“ Well, gentlemen,” said the Colonel, as we slowly 
mounted the steps to the piazza, “ I need not ask 
you whether you have enjoyed yourselves — I see. 
But at my time of life I feel that, pleasant as is out- 
door sport to me, the gay company, the music of 
hound and horn, yet sweeter still is the dinner bell. 

‘We may live without poetry, music, and art ; 

We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; 
We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; 
But civilized man cannot live without cooks. 

He may live without books, — what is knowledge but 
grieving ? 

He may live without hope, — what is hope but deceiving ? 
He may live without love, — what is passion but pining ? 
But where is the man that can live without dining ?’ ” 

Thus gayly recited the Colonel, as we parted on 
our several ways to dress for dinner. 


CHAPTER IV. 

On descending to the parlor I found the company 
all assembled, with two unexpected additions, made 
during our absence while hunting — Mrs., or, as she 
was more commonly called, Madame, St. Clair, 
and her lady’s companion, Miss Post. 

Madame St. Clair bore in her person, as well as 
title, a stateliness and decorum savoring of Revolu- 
tionary times. She was one of those old ladies of 
some pedigree, who were modelled upon the femi- 
nine standard of the old-fashioned watered-silk- 
bound parlor Annual, or Book of Beauty, which 
was filled with engravings of bewitchingly swan- 
necked women engaged pictorially in saying stewed 
prunes. She seemed to live and move and have 
her being in the full belief that harm in the world 
is impotent in the face of such gentility, and that 
all women have equal chance, at their peril, to be 
proper. Being such a person, and the grand-aunt 
of Miss Cressance, it is almost needless to mention 
that she highly disapproved of that dashing young 
lady, whom she termed u fast,” and was wont to 
( 36 ) 


UNDER TIIE PALMETTO. 


37 


rate soundly for her departure from the manners of 
the old school, meaning her own ; the said old 
school consisting, according to the young lady her- • 
self, of preternatural dulness and deportment. 

As for Miss Post, she filled that negative exist- 
ence whose whole duty lies in assenting to an ex- 
acting superior’s propositions, and being cheerful 
under contract stipulating that as part of the service 
to be rendered — a course of life which, however 
conducive it may be to rubbing off any apparent 
angularity of mind, certainly increases that of the 
body, the keen spirit fretting its earthly sheath. 

The Colonel handed Madame St. Clair into the 
dining-room, followed by the rest of the company ; 
Miss D’Esty on the arm of Mr. Anderson, as at the 
same time the latest arrival, and a stranger in that 
part of the country ; and we seated ourselves at 
table, the Colonel at the head, with Madame St. 
Clair on his right, and Miss Dubreuil on his left. 
At the other end, Miss D’Esty of course presided, 
with Mr. Anderson on her right and Mr. Blaisdell 
on her left. Miss Post and Master Tom Sykes 
were opposite me ; and I found myself pleasantly 
enough situated between Miss Dubreuil and Miss 
Cressance, to the latter of whom I had been in- 
structed to give my arm. 

I soon perceived that the elements were not so 
propitious for mingling, now that two new ones, 
Madame St. Clair and Miss Post, or, if you please, 


38 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


one tliat occupied two places, had joined the com- 
pany. Thus Miss Cressance, with whom Mr. Blais- 
dell was manifestly smitten, "was cut off from him 
and next to Mr. Anderson, upon whom she seemed 
bent on playing off all her coquetry, while he him- 
self had been obliged, as a neighbor, to escort in 
Miss Post, sit beside, and not be altogether inat- 
tentive to her. And poor Tom Sykes, who, as 
youthful cavalier, had escorted in his cousin Miss 
Dubreuil, was cut off from her by the width of the 
table, and, worst of all, between Madame St. Clair 
and Miss Post, w r ho in particular conference breathed 
alternate sirocco and charnel whispers through his 
hair, forcing him to concentrate his attention upon 
his plate, to resist a frantic impulse to fly up like a 
jack-in-a-box and break their old noses. 

The Colonel said truly at breakfast, “ Talk to a 
man about eating, when you want him to eat a 
thing, or when he is eating it, but not just after he 
has eaten.” I shall not, however, offer a Barmecide 
feast on paper, but, contenting myself w r ith mention 
that we had for dinner sirloin of venison, killed and 
hung up some days previously, and plenty of acces- 
sories, rather pass on to describe that flow of soul, 
if not of reason, that is supposed to accompany and 
follow a good entertainment, when man feels disposed 
(of women the deponent saith not) to loosen the 
lowest button of his waistcoat, an impulse in accord- 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


39 


ance with the ancient idea as to the place of the 
soul’s residence. 

I did my duty and made myself as agreeable, or 
disagreeable — that is a question it would be pre- 
sumptuous of me to decide — as possible to my right- 
hand neighbor, Miss Dubreuil, and occasionally to 
my left-hand neighbor, Miss Cressance ; firing or 
receiving and returning occasional conversational 
shots across or up and down the table. Towards 
the right the conversation was toned down to the 
severely genteel method of the old school, by Madame 
St. Clair, who dwelt much upon the domestic life of 
the plantations, and kept up a spattering of small 
talk directed to the Colonel, mingled with high- 
flown compliments from each, like speech walking 
a minuet. Towards my side, playing about Miss 
D’Esty, it was livelier, with occasional lulls, brought 
about by Mr. Blaisdell and Mr. Anderson in turn 
waiting reinforcement of mother-wit for the conflict 
of repartee stimulated by Miss Cressance, as the 
breaking of lances in her honor in the lists which 
she presided over as the queen of love and beauty. 

Astonishing, the complaisance of social man in 
following the behests of woman in her whimsies ; 
how if she pipes to him he will dance and go through 
his paces upon- nothing more than the intimation 
from her that she is worthy of tomfoolery. And 
yet all the while some girl may be near by, for 
whose little finger he cares more than for the piper’s 


40 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


whole body ! The trick is accomplished by exciting 
emulation ; the prize may be small and the contest 
not less keen. Here a scientific question suggested 
itself to my wandering fancy — every one is scientific 
now-a-days, even to barbers. Why, if Darwin’s 
theory is true, that the cause among birds of beautiful 
plumage of the superior beauty of the male is con- 
tinuous female choice in him of pleasing attributes, 
and this law applies in its legitimate inference and 
broadest acceptation to mankind, is not woman’s 
naturally, and of right, the beau sexe ? It must be 
— admitting the law in its broadest application, 
without which it cannot be a law — because, rela- 
tively, the effort to please and attract is on woman’s 
side, the choice on the other. But this opens the 
touchy question of, whether it is more dignified and 
worthy to attract than to be allured, to choose or 
to be chosen, and, for my part, I am but too glad 
to have a door of escape in the premises. 

Thinking of other things, and table-talk, are, ex- 
cept in supreme moments, perfectly compatible ; so I 
flattered myself, as I have modestly observed, that 
I was doing my part creditably towards the general 
entertainment, as we settled down to a general con- 
versational flow varied by an occasional burst. At 
the end of an hour, the plantations not affording 
new material, Madame St. Clair began to flag. 
Tired of talking to the Colonel, she breathed more 
frequent communications through the roots of Tom 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


41 


Sykes’s back hair, and I perceived that Miss D’Esty 
saw that the time was approaching for the retiring 
of the ladies, when the Colonel, seizing his opportu- 
nity in the text of a newly -opened bottle of madeira 
deposited at his side by Caesar, got the floor at last 
in his narrative style with a preparatory hem, while 
Caesar circulated around the table supervising the 
regular waiter, Pompey ; thus bringing these old 
enemies under changed aspect into friendly alliance. 
Supernumerary Sam occupied a corner, from which 
coign of vantage for his shyness he had gone errands 
to the pantry and kitchen, the service of his depart- 
ment including much jingling, silenced by horrified 
looks from Caesar, aped in turn by Pompey, thus 
reducing him to such abject humility at the sense 
of his ignorance of grandeur that if he had had a 
tail he would have appeared with it between his 
legs. 

“ Try a glass of that madeira,” said the Colonel, 
sending the decanter to me by Pompey. “You are 
aware that we Charlestonians pride ourselves upon 
our madeira. We get the best wine from the island, 
and are careful in its treatment. My friend, Major 
Durand, and I bought a superior lot not long ago of 
the estate of Donham, deceased; part of a lot that 
had been sent by Denham’s father on a two years’ 
voyage in the cask. By the way, it ’s a most ex- 
traordinary thing to me about this new crop madeira. 
You remember that, in 1852, eight years ago, the 


42 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


vines in Madeira utterly failed from disease, after 
having produced for four centuries, and that the 
people sent for slips to the Cape of Good Hope, 
formerly stocked from the Island of Madeira. But 
you are not, perhaps, aware that the new vintage is 
not at all like the old ; is, in fact, quite different in 
flavor. I had always reckoned that gentlemen 
never would be without their madeira ; but, I thank 
fortune, my bins are full enough to last mine and 
my friends’ time.” 

Here Madame St. Clair gaped in so comme-il-faut 
a manner behind her hand that it would not have 
been known but for the rigid lines peeping above 
the shield from the mouth corners, and instantly 
the rising signal, communicated by some potent 
invisible agent, perhaps, in its rudimentary state, 
the vril, with which Bulwer describes all the women 
of the coming race as being armed, passed like a 
slight galvanic shock between Miss D’Esty and her. 
The hostess immediately arose, imitated by her 
guests, the ladies sweeping out of the room in sin- 
gle file, followed by Tom Sykes, through the door 
opened by the gallant Colonel, when the gentlemen 
reseated themselves and cigars were handed around 
by the serving-man. 

To me, whose perceptions were on the alert from 
stray bits of conversation on my left, it was evident 
that the entente cordiale was not quite perfect be- 
tween Mr. Anderson and Mr. Blaisdell; but now 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


43 


that, speaking with all due respect, the bone of 
contention was removed by the departure of Miss 
Cressance, they settled more easily into their chairs, 
and submitted to the soothing influence of the first 
few whiffs of their havanas, rather disinclined to 
take the initiative with each other in tete-a-tete , and 
glancing at the Colonel as if waiting for him to set 
the ball in motion. The Colonel, entirely uncon- 
scious of anything amiss, and nothing loath, but quite 
the contrary, now that the tedious Madame St. Clair 
was no doubt well-disposed of, nodding in some par- 
lor easy-chair, struck into one of his topics in which 
he was delighted to have all the talk to himself, and 
to find well-pleased listeners ; as we, all young men 
by comparison, and deprived of the stimulating in- 
fluence of the ladies, were disposed to be, without 
including the special cause at work with Messrs. 
Anderson and Blaisdell. 

“ You remarked to me this morning, Mr. Fortes- 
cue, when we were visiting the stables,” began the 
Colonel, striking the apologetic key-note for his own 
theme, “ that you knew next to nothing of the dif- 
ferent paces of the horse. Now, sir, that reminded 
me of a very curious circumstance which there was 
no opportunity to descant upon then, but which I 
will mention now if agreeable to you all.” 

Messrs. Anderson and Blaisdell and I professed 
our intense interest in the subject. 

“Well, gentlemeta,” resumed the Colonel, beam- 


44 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


ing with good madeira and hospitality, extending his 
legs under the table and settling down into the com- 
fortable attitude of the pleased raconteur , “ I once 
knew a gentleman, who had himself raised race- 
horses, who maintained that the run was not a series 
of leaps. The run is, however, an intense gallop, 
which is leaping; of which our transatlantic cousins 
recognize four degrees — the hand gallop, the three- 
quarter gallop, the full gallop, and the racing set-to. 

“ Well, the reason that the gentleman of whom 
I spoke, and others, too, have been deceived as to 
the character of the run is that the rider feels it 
to be the easiest pace to sit, and the distance be- 
tween the foot-prints is not great. But all rapid, 
animal, forward movement shortens the horizontal 
stroke and diminishes the vertical movement. Look 
at a man running. As he increases his speed his 
steps become shorter and his leap lower. Every 
one knows that the sound of a horse running has an 
intermission in the drum-like roll. That is the 
time of the impulse of the leap.” 

We all made our acknowledgments to the Colo- 
nel for his elucidation of this question of pace. 

“Some more wine, Mr. Fortescue,” suggested 
the Colonel; “you cannot do better than stick to 
the vintage you had last. Oh, let me ask you, now 
I think of it, when shall I see you about that busi- 
ness in New York?” 

“ If they retire early to-night, as I suppose they 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


45 


are likely to do,” said I, “to sleep off the fatigue of 
riding and hunting, I should think we might have a 
quiet talk undisturbed, and I can then communicate 
to you my father’s propositions in regard to the in- 
vestments.” 

At this juncture the other two gentlemen, having 
begun to converse upon the subject of the horse’s 
pace, the Colonel and I, sinking our voices slightly, 
conferred upon the matter which he had broached, 
becoming oblivious of what was going on at the 
other end of the table until just as the Colonel made 
a movement to leave us for a moment, in answer to 
a message from his daughter, I caught enough of the 
end of a sentence to show me that they had got upon 
the most dangerous topic of the day — the political 
condition of the country. But this was lost upon 
the Colonel leaving the room with an apology for 
absenting himself for a few minutes, just as Mr. 
Blaisdell remarked — 

“ And I say, sir, my country right or wrong !” 

“And I reply,” said Mr. Anderson, “that it de- 
pends upon what one calls his country for me to 
echo the sentiment. When one reduces the idea to 
petty state interest, as compared with a great coun- 
try’s, I deny the applicability of so noble a senti- 
ment as patriotism.” 

“Do you mean to say, sir, that the interest of the 
sovereign State of South Carolina is petty ? Do I 
understand you to say that ?” 


46 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ Relatively petty; but, sir, I had rather discon- 
tinue this discussion. You, I regret to say, seem 
inclined to carry the war into Africa.” 

Mr. Blaisdell smiled sarcastically as he replied, 
“but not among the Africans , as you from the 
North are wont to do.” 

“ Sir,” retorted Mr. Anderson, now aroused in 
his turn, “ there is no warrant for this as against 
me, personally ; but I will not repudiate what you 
have been pleased to ascribe to me. Enough — no 
matter what you believe my sentiments to be, the 
intention of your language is unmistakable.” 

“ And I accept the full responsibility for it,” 
said Mr. Blaisdell, rising from his chair. 

“And I for mine,” replied Mr. Anderson, rising 
impulsively at the same moment. 

All this had taken less than a minute ; the train 
had been laid and match ready to be applied. I 
heard the Coloners returning footsteps, and whis- 
pered, glancing towards the door, “ be seated, gen- 
tlemen, and resume conversation.” 

The two opponents sat down with constrained 
manner, while I made a diversion in their favor by 
. a timely question addressed to the Colonel regard- 
ing the madeira, thus engaging his attention until 
they had had time to renew their composure and 
resume the usual forms of polite intercourse. Luckily 
this ordeal did not last long; for the Colonel, after 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


47 


pressing us to take some more wine, which was de- 
clined, suggested joining the ladies in the parlor. 

We found coffee just being served there on little 
Chinese tables, reinforced by tea, as a more appro- 
priate beverage for the constitution of Madame St. 
Clair and her companion. 

Miss Post at that moment was engaged at some- 
thing strident at the piano, having, of course, grad- 
uated as inquisitor in the modern instrument which 
has superseded the rack. Miss Cressance marvelled 
much, when she, in turn, who had previously, for 
fun, stimulated Miss Post to renewed efforts, had 
now, with profuse insistance that Miss Post must 
be tired, taken her place at the piano, not to find 
both of her cavaliers rush to support her on each 
side, in the fascinating task of turning over the 
music in the hope, justified by experience, of get- 
ting stray bits of a song’s sentiment devoted to 
personal application, pointed w r itli a turn of the 
head and a lifting of the eyelash, followed by the 
languish of exhaustion from intensity. It flashed 
across her mind, of course little dreaming of the 
elements which she had summoned up having been 
at actual war, that the cause of the want of alacrity 
might be that the two gentlemen were jealous of 
each other. But glancing around at their unruf- 
fled demeanor, and quiet conversational tones, she 
concluded that it went no further, and summoned 
the nearest, who happened to be Mr. Anderson, to 


48 


UNDER TIIE PALMETTO. 


lier side and graciously gave him the duty to per- 
form ; and, later on, Mr. Blaisdell, lest perchance, 
like Justice, but not so blind, if she put too much 
weight into one scale she might make it kick the 
beam, and ruin that delightful spectacle to gods and 
men of two lovers dangling. 

An hour spent in the parlor in conversation and 
music, and the withdrawal of Madame St. Clair and 
Miss Post, led to a suggestion from Miss D’Esty 
that, as the day had been fatiguing and something 
was yet in store, they should indulge in a siesta. 
A general assent following, the company retired, 
gradually dropping into the parlor again or rambling 
about on the piazza about an hour later. 

After a light tea, when it had grown dark and 
lights had been brought in, the rambling up and 
down the piazza was resumed to the neglect of the 
inducements of the parlor.. Miss D’Esty and I pro- 
menaded arm in arm around the house, enjoying the 
pleasant quiet influence of the night, the giant 
shadows around, the lights of the negro quarters 
glimmering through the trees. The night was 
bright starlight, and just showed objects in great 
masses, resolvable into the fantastic forms with 
which the imagination chose to invest them. A 
spectral train of carts and wagons, a hundred yards 
or so off, went creaking by slowly with accompany- 
ing shouts and cracking of whips. It was the last 
caravan for the night of the brig’s merchandise. 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


49 


Suddenly, at one of the back angles of the house, 
Miss D’Esty and I paused simultaneously as we 
caught sight of the gleam of a negro face close up 
to the railings, and I recognized Sam, as he said to 
his mistress, “Miss D’Esty, did you tell us boys is 
gwine on a possum hunt? and we thought as the 
genelmen might like to g’ lang, if dey never seed 
one. Dar’s Mass’ Fortescue. Would Mass’ For- 
tescue like to go ?” 

“Well, Sam,” I replied, “ I should like to go, for 
I never saw one, but I don’t like to leave the 
ladies.” 

“‘Yes, sah ; berry nat’ral, sah.” 

“ Go,” said Miss D’Esty. “ I had promised 
Sam you would go. It will be strange to you, and, 
after all, it won’t take more than an hour or two.” 

“Yes, massa, we gin’rally makes a fine in less 
dan half an hour.” 

“ Go, go, by all means,” urged Miss D’Esty ; so I 
accepted. 

“An’ git de oder gentlemen, too, massa,” said 
Sam, trotting off. “ I’ll be back in a jiffy.” 

We had not had much mare than time to walk 
around the piazza and convey to the stragglers 
Sam’s intimation, when we saw a number of people 
approaching from the negro quarters, two or three 
of them carrying lighted pine torches. It was a 
rabble rout, of some twenty in number, mostly 
young fellows, accompanied by a pack of dogs of 
4 


50 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


low degree, the unmistakable cur which we had 
seen in such numbers in the quarters during our 
morning’s stroll, and which was now to prove itself 
of some use and worthy of its lineage. 

“I’m going, too,” cried Miss Cressance, carried 
away by the scene of life and movement, and dash- 
ing forward to the steps. 

“ Indeed you are not ,” cried her grand-aunt, inter- 
posing, while Miss Post bridled up as if held in by 
a severe curb-bit. 

“ Can’t I go, Aunt?” pleaded Miss Cressance. 
“ Not a step,” replied that austere matron. “ My!” 
exclaimed Miss Cressance, with an impatient little 
stamp ; and, amidst the general amusement occa- 
sioned by the episode, we stumbled down the steps 
and mingled with the party of negroes starting noisily 
along the road, I purposely joining Mr. Anderson, 
whom I happened to fall in with naturally, so that 
the Colonel should be forced to pair off with Mr. 
Blaisdell. 

Since the occurrence at the dinner table there 
had been only one interval — that of the siesta — 
when I had had the opportunity, if I had had the 
wish, to reveal to the Colonel what had taken place. 
But it was a nice question in my mind, what it was 
proper to do, and therefore I had done, and con- 
tinued to do, nothing. On the one hand, here was 
Mr. Blaisdell, the son of a near neighbor and friend 
of the Colonel’s, and Mr. Anderson, a stranger in 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


51 


the country and guest of another near neighbor and 
friend, involved in a quarrel under his roof, and I, 
the son of his most intimate friend North, the only 
witness of it, at the time when I was enjoying, 
chiefly as the son of my father, his hospitality and 
confidence. From that point of view, it would seem 
that I was bound in honor to inform him. But, on 
the other hand, here were two young men of about 
my own age, whose quarrel had evidently begun 
before they reached the Colonel’s house, in which 
it had merely happened to culminate, and might 
have taken place just as well elsewhere. What 
right had I then to interfere ? 

u What right have I to interfere ?” said I to 
myself, as I walked along side by side with Mr. 
Anderson, conversing on indifferent topics ; “ and 
yet” — I was continuing to argue the point with 
myself, when the negroes, who had lately extin- 
guished the torches and hushed their noise, now 
scampered along through the path which we were 
following, and shouted, u de dogs is on de track, de 
dogs got him shore.” 

Now began a hunt, which, if it had not been for 
the picturesque accessories of the negroes scurrying 
along, wild with excitement and delight, the barking 
of the dogs, and the infatuation that belongs to 
pursuit of anything, might from first to last be called 
tame ; putting out of question the tremendous ex- 
ertion of running in the dark through unknown 


52 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


wood-paths, which the negroes seemed to thread 
with the sureness of instinct ; across open fields of 
last season’s cotton crop, covered with tussocks, 
over which we leaped and stumbled, making poor 
headway on the earthy billows ; into the wood-paths 
again, and out across the fields and fallows ; amidst 
whooping, yelling, and hallooing. At last, spent 
with exertion, and mopping our faces with our 
handkerchiefs, we found ourselves in a clearing, 
gradually illuminated more and more by the re- 
kindling of the negroes’ torches, heard the strokes 
of an axe, and caught sight of dusky groups crowding 
around a trunk, up which the dogs intimated that 
the opossum had treed. 

A half hour’s enthusiastic chopping, with the 
relay of a fresh and expert axeman every two or 
three minutes, brought the tree to the ground, and 
the opossum with it, the dogs instantly pouncing 
upon the unfortunate beast, which made not the 
faintest resistance, but put up a piteous plea of 
misery in its helplessness, so that I was glad when 
it was despatched and slung across a negro’s 
shoulder amid manifest rejoicings. 

We had been gone about two hours, but upon 
our return found the ladies still lingering upon the 
piazza, except Madame St. Clair and Miss Post, 
who had retired for the night. It was only a little 
past ten o’clock, so the promenading was resumed. 
But the broken chord, although it did not jangle, 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


53 


made itself insensibly felt, and gradually, upon the 
plea of fatigue, the ladies betook themselves indoors, 
followed by me, leaving Mr. Blaisdell and Mr. 
Anderson silently gazing out into the night. 

As 1* walked through the hall towards my own 
room, which was on «the lower floor, I recognized 
the Colonel’s step behind me, and turned to meet 
him, when he said, “ I was just about to return to 
the piazza, to have out our conference ; but, if you 
please, we will step into the library.” Entering 
and groping along in the dim light afforded by the 
windows, one of which was open, the Colonel was 
on the point of lighting a candle, when the sound 
of Mr. Blaisdell’s voice, from the piazza, reached 
our ears. 

“ After what has passed,” said the voice, “ I 
presume you adopt the only solution.” 

“ Certainly, sir,” replied Mr. Anderson’s voice, 
pitched equally low — u the only South Carolina 
one.” 

“You abide by that?” 

“ As I have said.” 

“ Settled, then ; it was of you, as a Northern man, 
I deemed it proper to ask, so as to be guided in my 
movements. I shall leave early, on the plea of 
business. I have the honor, sir.” 

A pause ensued, which we could fill up in imagi- 
nation by the formal salutations of the young men, 
and then footsteps were heard retiring, then the 


54 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


sounds died away with the opening and shutting of 
the main entrance at sufficient intervals to indicate 
their return to the house. 

“ Good Heavens !” exclaimed the Colonel as soon 
as there was silence. “Under my very roof, too. 
It cannot be permitted for a moment. I am a 
stickler for the code — but there are circumstances ! 
Tell me frankly, Mr. Fortescue, whether you have 
suspected anything of this kind, and have any idea 
of the cause ?” 

Frankly then I communicated to the Colonel 
what I had seen, and my difficulties as to my 
proper course, he exonerating me fully from all 
blame. 

“ But it must be stopped, it must be stopped,” 
reiterated the Colonel ; “ it will never do. In my 
house, too, and Mr. Anderson a stranger in this 
part of the country. 0 varium et matdbile semper 
fcemina , to think that that minx, Betty, should 
have been at the bottom of all this row: — playing 
with fire, playing with fire ! But I must take time 
for reflection before making up my mind what to 
do. Good-night, and pleasant dreams; mine, I 
fear, must needs be disturbed.” 

But what the Colonel did to stop it, and whether 
he did stop it, must be left to another chapter, while 
both of Us, after this tremendous field-day, seek 
needful repose. 


CHAPTER V. 


At breakfast, the next morning, at eight o’clock, 
all the guests came together, with only a slight 
interval of dropping in, as is apt to be the case in 
short sojourns, compared with long, when the in- 
formality of the meal itself making no demand for 
punctuality, habit gradually accepts new quarters 
and surroundings, and people fall back into old 
accustomed ways. 

Mr. Blaisdell’s, 'the only absence at last remain- 
ing, elicited no comment, as his appearance was 
momentarily expected by every one but Mr. Ander- 
son, the Colonel, and myself. We had been at 
table some ten or fifteen minutes when Sam came 
to the door and handed Pompey a note, which he 
in turn laid beside his master’s plate. The Colonel, 
glancing around as he pronounced the usual for- 
mulary, “Will you excuse me?” opened the note, 
and added in the most ordinary tone of surprise, 
“ Oh, from Mr. Blaisdell, — sudden business, — es- 
caped his memory, — discovered memorandum, — 
called away, — many regrets, — hopes to meet the 
same charming party before long.” 


( 55 ) 


56 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


The guests heard the intelligence with only just 
enough raising, of the eyebrow to show interest, 
except in the case of Miss Cressance, over whose 
face flitted a shade of disappointment. The con- 
versation was resumed, and evidently Mr. Blais- 
dell’s departure was deemed the most natural occur- 
rence in the world: as in fact it was, from the 
point of view of plantation hospitality, where, as in 
England, guests came and went with perfect freedom 
from gtne either to host or guest. 

Immediately after breakfast Madame St. Clair’s 
caCeche drew up to the door, and, she and her 
attendant being handed in, started slowly on the 
road leading to Seabrook Island. The horses of 
the rest of the party being then brought up to the 
door, they mounted, accompanied by the Colonel 
and myself, and we soon overtook the caleche on 
the road, when the line of march arranged itself by 
Miss Cressance and Miss Dubreuil, with Mr. Ander- 
son and Tom Sykes, cantering in advance, the 
Colonel and I, one on each side, escorting the 
caleche with its top thrown back for the occupants’ 
enjoyment of the air and scene, and more intimate 
companionship with the rest of the party. 

The coast-line here trends towards the southwest. 
Along it lie Kiawali and Seabrook Islands, bounded 
on the east and west by Stono and North Edisto 
Rivers, which also bound in the same directions 
Wadmelaw and John’s Islands, separated from the 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


57 


others by Kiawak River, which, by means of an 
artificial cut at the head, forms a junction with the 
head of Bokicket Creek flowing into the North 
Edisto. 

The road that we were following wound close 
along the fast-land, wooded to its verge with live- 
oak, through and beyond which to the right, across 
the marshes on both sides of Kiawah River, were 
afforded glimpses of Seabrook and John’s Island 
plantations, with their cluster of manor-houses and 
negro quarters shimmering faintly in the far dis- 
tance. Gray squirrels in numbers leaped chattering 
from branch to branch, and now and then a stray 
rabbit flashed off* to one side, showing for a brief 
moment the white tuft of its tail. The woods 
rested in shadow, the country beyond lay bathed in 
mellow sunlight. A sudden turn showed the four 
persons in advance caracolling gayly along the road, 
the sound of the horses’ hoofs deadened on the soft, 
leaf-bedded track. 

“ Mr. Anderson was telling me, last night, on 
the piazza,” said Madame St. Clair to the Colonel, 
“ of your lecture after we left the table, on the 
paces of the horse. Now, how does that canter 
they are doing ahead differ from galloping? Isn’t 
it a slow kind of gallop?” 

“ Not the least in the world,” said the Colonel, 
“ although many persons think so. In the first 
movement of the canter, the horse throws itself 


58 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


back on its haunches. So, in falling forward, the 
forefeet touch in succession, when the hind' feet in 
their turn lift in succession. The forequarters and 
hind-quarters, therefore, rise and fall alternately, 
without any shock, producing the rocking gait so 
easy for short distances to the rider, but so hard, 
for long ones, to both rider and horse.” 

The road, badly cleared at best along its edge, 
from stumps, became impassable at times for the 
Colonel and myself, as outriders, to keep our posi- 
tions on each side of the caleche, so he at last availed 
himself of the pretext for dropping permanently a 
few yards behind, where we regulated our movement 
to the slow progress of the carriage. 

“ I seize the first opportunity,” said the Colonel, 
“ to tell you my conclusions. They do not differ 
from last night’s, but I am accustomed before speak- 
ing, as you know, and befits a man of my age, to 
take in important matters time for consideration. 
The case is difficult to manage, because we South 
Carolinans are all sticklers for the code, and, be- 
sides, youths now-a-days, who may be mere whipper- 
snappers in my estimation, presume to decide im- 
portant questions in the courts of honor, and to 
know more than their elders. Besides, by the 
turn the discussion took, the onus of sending the 
challenge is placed . on Mr. Anderson. He, coming 
of the stock he does, and just at the present time, 
when Northern courage has been impugned down 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


59 


South, cannot, as he has intimated he will not, 
shrink from the responsibility of meeting Blaisdell. 
You see my intention doesn’t in appearance square 
with our practice, and there, too, is the fact of the 
challenge coming from the unusual quarter.” 

“ It is clear,” I admitted, “ that the case is diffi- 
cult to manage. It it w T ere only possible, now, that 
these foolish fellows could be brought to realize that 
their encounter would distress their friend, Miss 
Cressance.” 

“ Ha, ha,” laughed the Colonel, “ I ’m not so sure 
it would. You have no idea how deeply our women 
are imbued with the principles of the code ; and 
besides, although, if she knew, she would be dread- 
fully frightened until it was all over, her vanity 
would be so tickled at the thought that she was at 
the bottom of the feud, she might be inclined to run 
all risks. But, you see, she has no risk to accept 
or decline ; for even if she could intimate a wish 
without compromising herself, jealousy would make 
matters worse.” 

“Yes, but, Colonel, you forget that the discussion 
was entirely political.” 

“ Yes, but I remember, too, the real cause. And 
no matter what the facts, it will not do, if it can be 
avoided, for a young lady to be mixed up in the 
affair.” 

“ Not to the extent of saying that a lady, a friend 
of both, hearing that they had had a misunderstand- 


60 


UNDER TIIE PALMETTO. 


ing about political matters, would be distressed at 
their following the thing up, and laid her injunction 
upon both to desist.” 

“ Ahem,” said the Colonel, “ not badly put — with 
an amendment, I think it can be passed. Excuse 
me a moment.” 

Thus speaking the Colonel urged his horse for- 
ward, until he reached the side of the caleche , and, 
bending low in his saddle, seemed to converse with 
Madame St. Clair so that the coachman could not 
hear. At this moment we issued from the deep 
woods, and turned into the road leading over the 
open plantations of Seabrook Island, which crossed 
by a little bridge the cut which separated that 
island and Kiawah from Wadmelaw and John’s 
Islands, the cavalcade still prancing along ahead, 
at the same distance they had maintained from the 
start. 

The Colonel was left by the carriage as he drew 
rein, and I, coming up, fell into place beside him. 
“All right,” said he ; “ Madame St. Clair is a very 
sensible woman about some things, and can keep 
her own counsel ; and so can Miss Post, for that 
matter — it’s the same thing. She, speaking for 
the society hereabouts, for which it is not presump- 
tuous of her to make herself responsible, declares 
that the gentlemen, having got into a heated politi- 
cal discussion at my house, one of them being a 
transient guest there, while staying as such also at 


UNDER TIIE PALMETTO. 


G1 


a plantation, the honor of the neighborhood is con- 
cerned in the affair’s being permitted to go no 
further. Not a word does she know, or will she 
ever suspect, of the first cause of animosity. Her 
niece and Miss Dubreuil and Tom Sykes will stop 
at Madame St. Clair’s, midway on John’s Island, 
and go home in the evening under Tom’s escort. 
Mr. Anderson will, of course, after seeing the party 
to Madame St. Clair’s, be obliged to keep right on 
to Major Durand’s, where he is staying, on the east 
end of John’s Island. We will stay at Madame 
St. Clair’s to dinner, for a purpose, which is this. 
Nothing has, of course, taken place so far, for the 
very good reason that Mr. Anderson is still with 
us. The way that things will fall out is very 
simple. Bob Durand, the Major’s son, will carry 
the formal message to Blaisdell this morning. He 
will be referred by Blaisdell • to Dick Hammond, 
his intimate friend, who lives right near him on 
Wadmelaw Island, and whom he has doubtless 
apprised already of what is to be expected. Before 
we return to my house this evening, we shall know 
something definite, probably the place of rendez- 
vous ; we must guess at the time. In this quiet 
plantation life nothing can take place unawares to 
people holding such a clue as ours.” 

“And then, Colonel; w T hat then?” 

Oh, it would be useless to attempt to frustrate 
the intention before the ground is reached.” 


62 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ True, I see ; there is a physiological law con- 
cerned where moral forces are at work. It is use- 
less to try to get them under control until they 
have wreaked themselves upon some effort.” 

“ Ha, ha,” cried the Colonel; “have at you! 
That’s some of your modern learning. We had the 
substance, they give us now the shadow — 

‘ For all a rhetorician’s rules 
Teach nothing hut to name his tools.’ 

But here we are at the bridge over the cut between 
Seabrook and Wadmelaw. You see those houses 
showing far over to the right, against the dark 
background of trees — that is Madame St. Clair’s.” 

A gallop of twenty minutes brought us to the 
door of the house, when Mr. Anderson took his 
leave on the plea of Major Durand’s expecting him, 
and rode off in the direction of the Major’s place. 

“ Now,” .said the Colonel to me, when the ladies 
had entered the house and Tom Sykes had kindly 
bestowed himself at the stables, “ from this point of 
view, north of Kiawah River, and about opposite 
my place, which you can just see over in that direc- 
tion, you observe that the ground is clear right 
down to the river. Before long we shall doubtless 
discover a horseman passing off there in the direc- 
tion opposite to that which Mr. Anderson took. 
That, in all probability, will be Bob Durand, on his 
mission to carry the hostile message. We cannot 
do better than take seats and a cigar and stay here 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


G3 


observant of events. If the young ladies should 
join us, they would be none the wiser.” 

The young ladies did soon appear, after making 
their toilets, their riding-habits tucked up, and we 
were chatting together when, in about an hour, a 
solitary horseman was seen cantering leisurely along 
in the direction indicated. 

“ I wonder who that is, from Major Durand’s 
way,” said Miss Dubreuil, and Miss Cressance 
looked up, but no further interest was excited. 

The Colonel and I soon retired to rooms that had 
been assigned us, then loitered for an hour or so in 
the library before dinner was announced, after 
which we resorted again to the piazza to smoke our 
cigars. This was weary work, the waiting for the 
time of action to come. The Colonel, for the pur- 
pose of being able to speak freely, suggested a little 
stroll, and we two sauntered leisurely away. 

“ Bob Durand,” said he, “ must 'have returned 
while we were at dinner.” 

Then we sauntered back and asked for music, 
which was duly provided in the parlor ; and then 
we lingered over some books of fine prints. A 
short siesta filled up the interval before an early 
tea, and at last our horses- were ordered to the door. 
As we were taking our leave, and the attention of 
the rest was directed to me, I saw the Colonel say 
something quickly to Miss Cressance, at which she 
turned pale, but recovered herself, saying something 


64 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


quickly in reply; the next moment we were off, 
waving our farewell. 

44 I got a word with her at last,” said the Colonel, 
when we were out of hearing. 44 I thought it well 
that she should not lose a good lesson. She showed 
more sensibility than I had expected, and replied, 
4 Colonel, if you love me, prevent this.’ She is 
interested in one of these gentlemen ; which, I do 
not know.” 

44 Nor I — but now I see. Light breaks upon me. 
She flirted with Mr. Anderson to draw on Mr. 
Blaisdell, thus peculiarly exciting his jealousy, as 
against a stranger, for whom young ladies, it is said, 
have a decided penchant , although sometimes it is 
from nothing more than a desire for new homage, 
or to cause the renewal of old.” 

44 Hist!” said the Colonel, to one of a party of 
field-hands returning from their task. 44 Boy, you 
were working in that field over there. Who was 
that passed from Major Durand’s about noon?” 

44 Dat Massa Bob Durand.” 

44 Did he return ?” 

44 Yes, Mass’ D’Esty.” 

44 Ah, I thought it was he,” said the Colonel, indif- 
ferently, turning towards me and walking his horse 
beside mine. 44 Now, Mr. Fortescue, this affair of 
course comes off early to-morrow morning — where? 
that’s the question. Well, they will not go far in 
the State, because Mr. Anderson has taken passage 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


G5 


in the same steamer that you sail in from Charleston. 
About here, then, somewhere, it will be. Now they 
will naturally contrive so that each party shall have 
to go about the same distance to the place of meet- 
ing. It won’t be near this spot on the North Edisto, 
for two reasons : because Anderson would have to 
come too far, and, besides, it ’s pretty well settled 
down in this direction, and some gentlemen might 
object. So it will be to the eastward, about Folly 
Island, east of the Stono, and about midway by 
water route between Durand’s and Blaisdell’s places. 
Folly Island is nothing but a low sand-strip on the 
ocean, nobody of any account there. If they fight 
on the islands, then, Blaisdell will go through the 
cut we are approaching at the head of Boliicket 
Creek, connecting the North Edisto and Kiawah 
Rivers, to where it enters the Kiawah, and thence 
down to the Stono. Anderson’s party will just go 
down the Stono to the mouth of Kiawah River, and 
there they meet.” 

“ A perfect case of circumstantial evidence, Colo- 
nel. Some people might object to let life depend 
upon it, but I am perfectly satisfied to do so as far 
as the finding is concerned.” 

“If they go early, as they will,” resumed the 
Colonel, “ then along this cut must be some prepa- 
ration ; because, as Blaisdell lives well up Wadme- 
law Island, on the North Edisto, it would be too 
hard a pull before he could reach Boliicket Creek, 
5 


G6 


UNDER TIIE PALMETTO. 


in addition to the pull down Kiawah River. You 
remember that yesterday, early, when you were out 
shooting on the beach, it showed full tide. That 
was past seven o’clock; so just before sunrise to- 
morrow the tide will be running in strong. Here 
we are at the cut. Now let ’s ride along it and see 
what we can discover.” 

We turned to the right and rode along 'the 
cut to the head of Bohicket Creek, and slightly 
down the creek, scanning the bends from every 
commanding point on shore. So far the signs 
failed. Turning bridle we retraced our steps, mak- 
ing for the head of Kiawah River. Nothing showed 
along the cut. It was growing dark, and things 
began to look indistinct, and the air to feel chilly. 
Suddenly, as we came to the end of the cut where 
it entered the head of Kiawah River, we saw a boat 
with a negro in it, leaning over, working at the side. 
“ I say, boy,” cried the Colonel, hailing him, ‘‘what 
are you doing there at this time ? Whose boat ’s 
that?” 

“ It ’s Widow Clayton’s, Massa. Massa Dick 
Hammond borrowed um to go to mouf ob Stono 
to-morrow arly. Me and tree ob de boys is to 
row um. I’se caulking a place where she leaks 
astarn.” 

“Oh, that’s all, is it?” said the Colonel. “I 
wanted to know, you rascal, what you were doing 
about here. That ’s all,” said the Colonel, dropping 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


G7 


his voice for my ear, and riding off with me, “ but 
it is enough.” 

The shades of evening had deepened fast while 
the Colonel and I had been riding slowly along the 
cut in quest of the signs he had made sure of find- 
ing and had found. It was now quite dusk, and 
the air seemed chill and drear, as we, glad of the 
exercise, galloped quickly towards his house through 
the dank earthy scent of evening in the woods. 
Just before we reached it the Colonel slackened his 
pace, and said, as we jogged along together: — 

“ And now I am certain that it is Folly Isla‘nd.” 

“A very appropriate name,” remarked I, “for 
the place of meeting.’ 

“Very! — certain, for — ” continued he, following 
out his thought, “assuming it in that direction we 
must exclude Kiawah, John’s, James’s, and Cole’s, 
all abutting there on Stono River; because my place 
is on the first, Durand’s on the second, the third is 
marshy thereabouts, the fourth is slumpy at> half 
tide. There is left Folly Island and Bird Key, but 
the latter is a mere sand spit with two or three sand 
dunes. Not another word ; here we are at the 
house. I will wake you in time ; better not un- 
dress.” 

Dismounting, we handed over our horses to the 
negro boys awaiting our arrival, and, entering the 
house, found Miss D’Esty, apprised of our return 
by the clatter of hoofs, presiding at the tea-urn. 


68 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


Although we had had tea we took another cup to 
gratify her, conversing upon indifferent topics, then 
played chess until bedtime, in which Miss D’Esty 
checkmated both the Colonel and me, which seemed 
a bad enough omen for the morrow. 



CHAPTER VI. 

There seemed scarcely any interval of time, 
when the next thing I knew was a touch on the 
shoulder, and the Colonel was standing beside me, 
with a bed-room candlestick in his hand, saying: 
“It is time to start. ,, 

I followed him softly down stairs and out of the 
house to the river shore, where, in the deep gloom, 
we could just distinguish the outline of a boat against 
the water, manned by four dusky figures. Stepping 
aboard, the boat was shoved off with a cautionary 
word about silence, the oars already in the rowlocks 
and muffled were moved gently as we passed between 
high marshy banks, and in a minute or two we had 
emerged from the creek in which the landing was, 
and were meeting the full sweep of the tide making 
up Kiawah River. 

An hour’s strong pulling against the current 
brought us to Stono River; crossing which, we 
were drawing near the end of Folly Island, when 
from shore an unexpected challenge reached us 
from a voice with just enough touch of the brogue 

( 69 ) 


70 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


in it to fix the nationality and the station of the 
speaker. It was not the brogue of the hod-carrier. 
It was an accent no greater than that by which we 
recognize the English of any Englishman or of any 
Scotchman, and by which they in turn know us ; 
simply the accent by which even an educated man, 
apart from provincialism, can be recognized by the 
intonation that belongs to separate nationality. It 
can be represented but crudely with the small pho- 
netic means existing in common language, but the 
ear perceives it. 

“ Who goes there ? What are you niggers doing 
out this time o’ night? Heave to or I ’ll shoot ye,” 
said the voice. 

“Major O’Rourke! What the deuce are you 
doing here this time of night? Is this military 
somnambulism,” cried the Colonel. 

“Be the powers, if it ain’t Colonel D’Esty!” re- 
turned the voice out of the darkness. “ O’im think- 
ing it ’ll nade a mutual explanation.” 

Our boat’s bow just then grated on the sand ; the 
negroes jumped overboard and ran her up on the 
beach, and two of them taking us on their shoulders 
deposited us above high-water mark. 

“It’s hardly the top of the morning I can give 
ye, Colonel,” said our interlocutor, advancing and 
showing a tall, broad-shouldered figure, “seeing it ’s 
not morning yet, if you count by daylight. But 
what brings you here at this time ? My business 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


71 


is a runaway nigger of mine, who ’s been lurking 
out in the hammocks this month past, begad.” 

“ Not a pleasant errand,” replied the Colonel, 
drawing the Major to one side, and motioning me 
to follow. “ I ’m here to stop a duel that was to 
come off this morning.” 

“I should think not. If anybody had told me 
but yourself that Colonel D’Esty wished to put a 
stop to settling a point of honor in the field, as be- 
tween two gentlemen, as sure as me name ’s O’Rourke 
I ’d have insulted him. You don’t mane it,” remon- 
strated the Major, in a high moral tone. “ Why, 
even when the Twenty-Third’ Dragoons, to which I 
had the honor afterwards to belong, was on the Pe- 
ninsula, so the old officers have told me, and it 
wasn’t like in old Ireland, but almost as good -as 
being cashiered, to go out, they w^ould do it. One day 
an officer of the Twenty-Third had an affair, and if, 
the day after, at Talavera, he hadn’t distinguished 
himself moightily, cashiered he ’d been. And didn’t 
Sir Arthur himself, when he was juke, afterwards 
go out in peace times wfitli Lord Winchelsea! There 
is high authority for you. And you putting a stop 
to juelling !” 

“ Yes, but — ” said the Colonel, “ the circum- 
stances are peculiar. Wait till you know the case, 
and you will stand by me.” 

“ Well, you mayn’t count on it till I hear,” said 
the Major, assuming a judicial air. 


72 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ You see,” urged the Colonel, “one of the par- 
ties is a young gentleman from the North, belong- 
ing to a very influential family. Republican* in his 
sympathies, but not an abolitionist, mind you ; who 
has been well received on the Islands, and is gene- 
rally liked and esteemed. At my house, at dinner, 
after the ladies had retired, during a short absence 
of mine from table, he got into a political discussion 
with young Fred Blaisdell; high words passed, and 
you know the rest. You know, too, the state of the 
country. Now, I ask you, whether for both social 
and political reasons a stop ought not to be put to 
this affair ? Our Democratic friends North might 
lose ground in the event of a mishap, and our repu- 
tation for hospitality is also at stake.” 

“ You touch me on the score of hospitality,” 
replied the Major, “ but for the political part of it, 
Colonel, I don’t think it matters a sthraw. The 
Democratic party’s the most convanient thing in 
the world. Up North it’s the workingman’s party, 
down South it ’s the aristocrats’, and between the 
two ways of looking at the same thing, the divil a 
chance has the workingman to have a say at all. 
And it ’s the thrue w T ay, Colonel, to have the prin- 
ciples of a party elastic, so as to stand a strain. 
But that’s shub rosa , as you may say, Colonel,” 
added the Major, tapping the side of his nose, with 
a portentous wink. What prodigious vitality a man 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


73 


must have who can tap his nose and wink before 
breakfast, in the cold gray of morning! 

The Colonel laughed and said : “And what may 
your opinion of the Republican Party up North be? 
it’s nowhere else; — but excuse me, it is time we 
were devising some plan of action. You are not 
here all alone, are you, Major?” 

“ No, I have a crew in a boat close by, inside the 
mouth of Folly River.” 

“Let them stay there, then,” said the Colonel, 
“and I will send my boat around to the same place, 
out of sight, so as not to alarm the parties expected. 
Boys, shove off,” cried the Colonel, raising his voice, 
“and go up Folly River until you see Major 
O’Rourke’s boat, and lie quiet there until you hear 
my hunting-horn. Now, gentlemen, let us go back 
a little further from shore, back of the sand-dunes. 
I beg pardon, permit me to introduce you gentlemen 
to each other. Major O’Rourke, Mr. Fortescue, who 
is staying with me ; the unexpectedness of this meet- 
ing made me oblivious. Hark, what is that ? The 
stroke of oars : I thought so. You can see the 
boat now dimly, approaching from up the Stono.” 

The faintest possible gray of dawn showed through 
the light mists hovering over marsh and stream as 
we, standing concealed by the little sand-dunes back 
of the beach, strove to pierce the haze up the Stono, 
down which the boat was coming. 

“ Hark, again,” said the Colonel, “ I hear the 


74 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


other stroke coming down the Kiawah, isn’t it ? — 
yes, faint. There it comes more distinctly — time 
nicely calculated.” 

Five minutes passed, during which the day grew 
brighter and brighter, and both boats were dis- 
tinctly seen slowly approaching against the tide 
sweeping up the rivers from which they were con- 
verging to their confluence between Kiawah and 
Folly Islands. In five minutes more they had 
grounded, some distance apart, and the parties 
respectively occupying them had leaped out upon 
the beach, and the seconds advanced towards each 
other, saluting. 

“ I see they’re got my friend, Dr. McQueen, as 
surgeon,” whispered the Major, as a stoutish gentle- 
man stepped last out of Blaisdell’s boat. “It’s 
many an affair he ’s been present at in one way or 
another in the old country.” 

As we could see from gestures, the preliminaries 
were soon arranged by the seconds. Fifteen paces 
had been stepped off, the pistols loaded, and the 
men were about to be placed, when the Colonel, 
mounting to the top of the sand-dune behind which 
he had stood, and advancing towards Blaisdell and 
his second, and lowering his voice so that he could 
not be heard by the other party, said : — 

“ Gentlemen, this thing cannot proceed.” 

“ It’s a pity,” said the Major to me, regretfully, 
as we followed the Colonel. 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 75 

“And wliy not?” retorted Mr. Hammond, the 
second of Mr. Blaisdell, upon whose station the 
Colonel had advanced, the other party also standing 
their ground. “ You do not, I hope, intend, Colonel, 
to presume upon your years and intimacy with our 
fathers ! We are not boys, you must remember.” 

“Not at all, not at all, sir; hear me out,” said 
the Colonel, still cautiously speaking in a low tone. 
“You will observe that I address myself to you, 
Mr. Hammond, as representing Mr. Blaisdell, and 
he will confirm what I say. I shall dispense with 
no formality.” 

“ Proceed, sir,” replied Mr. Hammond, coldly. 

“In the first place, I should observe,” said the 
Colonel, “that the knowledge of this affair comes 
to me in a perfectly legitimate way. I was an 
unintentional listener through my library window 
of your principal’s last words with Mr. Anderson. 
Without what Mr. Fortescue afterwards communi- 
cated, I had enough to go upon. I protest, then, 
against this affair’s going any further, first, because 
our well-established reputation for hospitality would 
suffer thereby; secondly, because, in the political 
ferment of the country, any untoward consequence 
to Mr. Anderson would be represented as the result 
of a truculent assault upon freedom of speech and 
the sanctity of individual rights. Bear in mind 
that I am speaking of what would be represented. 
Thirdly, because the sense of the neighborhood 


76 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


would be against it. For that I have the confirma- 
tion of the high authority of Madame St. Clair, to 
whom I communicated the facts in confidence. 
Fourthly, and I trust and believe you will not think 
it a light matter, I wish to look at it as leniently as 
possible, with due allowance for the exasperated 
state of the public mind in the South on the slavery 
question, hardly enough consideration has been 
shown me ; I allude to the fact of this trouble having 
arisen in my house.” 

Mr. Hammond, giving a look of doubt at his 
principal, who returned it in kind, said : — 

“ You put it very strongly, Colonel. Permit us 
to step aside for a moment.” 

A short conference ensued, when Mr. Hammond 
approached the Colonel, and said : — 

“ Mr. Blaisdell and I are in perfect accord. We 
think your reasons amply sufficient, but we must 
proceed.” 

“ Proceed,” cried the Colonel ; “ wherefore then?” 

“ Why, you forget, Colonel, that Blaisdell, having 
given the offence, and undergone a challenge, cannot, 
as an honorable man, apologize and leave the field 
without receiving his adversary’s fire.” 

“ True, my God ! yes,” cried the Colonel. u I 
had thought of that and forgotten it ; what have I 
been thinking of? Here have I hastened to prevent 
harm to a stranger, to witness, perhaps, the son of 
a friend shot! But I can no more. Well, Major,” 


UNDER TIIE PALMETTO. 


77 


raising his voice, and walking over towards the 
Major, “ it’s of no use, the affair must proceed.” 

“ Now, Colonel, don’t be so cast down,” said the 
Major. “ Blessed are the peace-makers, and I ’in 
thinking you ’ve done more than your juty ; for the 
best peace-makers and keepers are just the little 
tools they’re getting ready to hand their men. And, 
for my part, this cracking away was once so fre- 
quent, that my ear became, for the rest of me life, 
still more Irish and less noice.” 

In the first burst of sunlight streaming over the 
landscape, the weapons gleamed as they levelled at 
the word. Two sharp reports followed quickly on 
each other, and it was seen that Mr. Anderson had 
missed and Mr. Blaisdell fired in the air. Mr. 
Blaisdell’s second at once advanced to Mr. Durand, 
Mr. Anderson’s second, and said, “ I tender to you, 
in behalf of my principal, his sincere regrets for 
the occurrence of day before yesterday, for which 
he holds himself to blame.” 

“ Enough,” said Mr. Durand, glancing towards 
his principal ; “we are perfectly satisfied.” 

“ Not a word more,” said Mr. Anderson, as Mr. 
Blaisdell now approached proffering his hand, which 
was frankly accepted. 

The two young men turned towards the Colonel, 
about to speak, but he, courteously waving off the 
apology that was rising to their lips, said, “ I accept 
unspoken what you would say. I know how to 


78 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


make allowance for youth and circumstances. And 
now, gentlemen all, will you do me the honor to 
accept the hospitality of my house? With this 
sweeping tide we can go up the Kiawah in half an 
hour to my landing.” 

In a minute all was bustle on the beach. The 
boats concealed in Folly River were signalled, and 
the little flotilla of four rowed along, the occupants 
conversing across from one to another at the tops 
of their voices. 

Said Surgeon McQueen to . the Major, both of 
whom had come aboard of our boat, “It came near 
being a different kind of return from this jollifica- 
tion ! Did you see the hole there is through young 
Blaisdell’s hat ?” 

In half an hour we were at the Colonel’s landing, 
and breakfast was served as soon thereafter as possi- 
ble, the Colonel alone doing the honors, as his daugh- 
ter could hardly appear before such an hilarious party. 

Within a few minutes the Colonel had slipped 
off a note by special courier to reassure Miss Cres- 
sance. “Just think, though,” said he, as he com- 
municated this intelligence to me in an undertone, 
“ how, after she is over her fright, her horn will 
be exalted !” 

Champagne, whiskey-punch, and all sorts of un- 
seasonable doings followed closely upon breakfast, 
as happens when the usual train of life is out of 
joint. Our Irish friends were in their element. 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


79 


Major O’Rourke gave a sentiment to the “cray- 
chure,” preluding with an eulogium upon it, in 
which he said that, if it did often begin the fighting, 
it always cemented the peace ; and he and the 
Doctor volunteered a drinking song, which was 
given with chorus and accompaniment of much 
clinking of glasses. 

To King Bacchus he praises, 

The god of the vine, 

Coming down misty mazes, 

’Mid dance, song, and wine. 

Let us snatch a brief pleasure to outweigh a pain, 
And troll a gay measure as we march in his train. 

Kind, jovial, old Bacchus 
Cares naught for his queen, 

And avoids thus all fracas, 

Content with poteen. 

Let us snatch a brief pleasure to outweigh a pain, 
And troll a gay measure as we march in his train. 

To each subject dispenses 
A vine-twisted crown ; 

With a groat for expenses . 

He never lays down. 

Let us snatch a brief pleasure to outweigh a pain, 
And troll a gay measure as we march in his train. 

Let us shout his loud praises 
With fury divine ; 

Let us drink like blue blazes 
The god of the vine. 

Let us snatch a brief pleasure to outweigh a pain, 

And troll a gay measure as we march in his train. 


80 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ Let us troll' a gay measure,” repeated the 
Doctor, stretching affectionately across the table 
for a last clink of glasses all around, “ as we march 
in his train.” 

Let not the gentle reader suppose that there was 
any danger of the festivity’s degenerating into an 
orgy. The serious business of a few hours before 
had its natural reaction in a flow of good feeling 
and jollity which was within due bounds. “On 
n’est pas si diable qu’on en a Pair ” applies to a 
great many things in life. It was high noon when 
we found ourselves at the landing-place, seeing the 
guests off, and looking after them through a mist 
that was not altogether in the landscape. 


CHAPTER VII. 


Quiet had come at last after the hurly-burly of 
the last three days. The one following the duel 
Was devoted by me, with the assistance of Sam, to 
packing my trunks preparatory to taking the steamer 
from Charleston to New York on my return home. 

By eleven o’clock, the next morning, I found 
myself on my way to Charleston, going down 
Kiawah River, propelled by eight lusty negro oars- 
men, in the Colonel’s barge, a huge dug-out, forty 
feet long and six feet beam, nicely fitted up near 
the stern, leaving space for a cockswain, with a 
caboose high enough to afford shelter from sun or 
bad weather. 

The occupants of the stern of the barge at this 
moment were, besides myself, the Colonel, Miss 
D’Esty, and Jane. We were to pick up Mr. An- 
derson at Major Durand’s, on the Stono, to accom- 
pany us to Charleston, to take passage by the 
steamer in which I was to sail. Sam was pulling 
the stroke oar; the faces of som'e of the other oars- 
men were familiar to me ; so I felt as if I were not 
quite bidding adieu to the plantation. 

6 ( 81 ) 


82 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


We found ourselves thus in the cool crisp air of a 
beautiful morning, seated and reclined on the cush- 
ioned seats beneath the caboose, protected from the 
glare ; gliding along in the barge, resembling a huge 
gondola, rude in its appointments but redolent of 
comfort. 

The tide would be against us all the way down 
the Kiawah, and in our favor all the way up the 
Stono. Time did not press, and the conversation 
assumed the easy chit chat natural to the scene. 
We glided pleasantly along, the oarsmen swinging 
lazily in the sweep of the negro stroke, the oars in 
the “recover” seeming as if they never again would 
touch water. 

“ You don’t think much of our plantation stroke,” 
remarked Miss D’Esty, observing my doubtful 
glance. 

“I was merely thinking,” said I, “that their 
slowness grows out of their feeling that time and 
place are indifferent to them as compared with our- 
selves.” 

“Fate, you know,” replied Miss D’Esty, “often 
compels against the will to hold as well as to be 
held. But let us not pursue the subject, lest my 
father may hear what we are discussing, and, be- 
cause he may think you too radical in your views of 
what might be effected by us, endeavor to strike the 
balance by advocating views which I know to be 
more extreme than those which he really holds.” 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


83 


She spoke in time, for at this moment the Colonel, 
turning towards me, inquired : “ What metaphysical- 
matter is it Mr. Fortescue is discussing with you, 
Emily ? I caught something about time and place; 
These schoolmen never can have done with it. It 
is only mental gymnastics.” 

“Oh,” replied I, “the metaphysical part of the 
matter is disposed of, permit me to call your atten- 
tion to the physical part ; you are, doubtless, well 
informed in boating matters.” 

“Only slightly,” said the Colonel, “only in a 
very general way. We haven’t paid much atten- 
tion to it in the South. But I should be glad to be 
instructed as to what you are doing up North in 
imitation of the English Universities.” 

“Well, Colonel,” said I, “a great deal might be 
said in favor of the exercise, but it is not placed 
under sufficient safeguards. Many a young' man 
has sapped his vitality in a single training.” 

“ I don’t doubt it,” replied the Colonel. “You 
may depend upon it, that the condition of the ner- 
vous system is the best criterion of physical condi- 
tion. Look at our young men of family, South, 
who ride and hunt habitually, always in training, 
but training never overdone.” 

“ Such exercise is, as you know, impossible with 
us generally,” said I. il The conditions under which 
we live are entirely different irom yours. For a 
special purpose men may be safely trained to a 


84 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


much higher standard, but then comes in the ques- 
tion of the individual man, and nothing but medical 
examination preceding and during training can 
settle the question whether a man is being vitally 
improved or sapped in constitution.” 

“ What about your system with reference to boat- 
ing as a sport ?” inquired the Colonel. 

“Two objections,” said I, “apply to the sport as 
affecting public interest. The plan of dispensing 
with a cockswain has been largely adopted. This 
renders 1 fouls,’ from which so much ill-blood always 
arises, of even more frequent occurrence than they 
would be on the present course, which is ill-adapted 
to its purpose ; for boats racing should not converge, 
but should cross a line of equal length to that occu- 
pied by them at the start.” 

“ Certainly,” said the Colonel, interested, as he 
always was in all matters of out-door exercise, and 
assenting by nodding his head. “It stands to rea- 
son that the course should be straight-away. And 
in regard to the cockswain, why do they not see 
that it is not absolute but relative speed which is to 
be tested ? At present neither can be tested. The 
bow-oarsman cannot at the same time row and steer 
equally well ; there must be loss somewhere. The 
boat that comes in last may, from wild steering, 
have gone over much the longest distance ; all the 
boats will have gone too long a one.” 

“You have seized the true idea,” said I. “ It is 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


85 


a miserable, unboatmanlike practice. Boating in 
sport should for an obvious reason resemble as much 
as possible boating in real service. Consider that 
only a steersman who sits in the stern-sheets in 
comparative repose, facing the oarsmen, is well 
situated to judge of the situation. But I am forget- 
ting that Miss D’Esty, like all young ladies, is 
fonder of results than of means.” 

“Just as,” replied she, “you men accuse us of 
thinking that it is so much the worse for the facts 
if they do not support our arguments.” 

“ A parallel case,” said I, laughing. “ Impatient 
of intervening things, whether facts or steps, you 
leap to conclusions.” 

“ If I should say you do not seem very chivalrous, 
would that be leaping to a conclusion ?” 

“ Oh, that misused word chivalry !” I could not 
help exclaiming. “ Far be it from me to impugn 
the sentiment or object to the word, in fitting place ; 
but bethink you, what you are now claiming by 
them belongs to a bygone age, when woman had 
just ceased to be regarded as a toy, and was growing 
to the full dignity of her mental and moral stature 
in the eyes of the world. But now, at her present 
stand, can chivalry be appealed to in a matter of 
reason, without derogation from her dignity, by her 
who now claims rightfully to be the equal and com- 
plement of man ? Is it not manifestly deserting 
reason and taking refuge in a plea of weakness ?” 


86 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


“ I never would admit that,” cried Miss D’Esty, 
warmly. 

“ Nor I either, if you mean weakness, and not 
the plea,” rejoined I, redeeming my reputation for 
gallantry at a stroke. 

“I forgive you,” said she, “for the sake of the 
graceful turn you have given to your lecture. And, 
shall I confess it, I see for the first time, in regard 
to this matter, that you are right. I shall in future 
assume my full stature ; take care !” 

As I glanced around, after this mild passage-at- 
arms, I caught Sam and Jane interchanging glances 
over my shoulder, the meaning of which Miss 
D’Esty seemed to comprehend at the same moment, 
for she blushed vehemently as she said to Sam, by 
way of relieving her embarrassment : “ Sam, give 
us one of your songs, to while away the time.” 

“ Yes, missus,” said Sam, demurely, and saying 
to the crew, “ Come, boys, chorus ‘ New Jerusa- 
lem,’ ” he began one of those rude songs, with a 
well-known chorus for the crew, with which the 
slaves on some parts of the seaboard were wont to 
relieve the tedium of the way, keeping time to their 
oars, the leader often acting as improvisatore, in- 
troducing his grievances and preferring his requests 
to his master, in indirect, adroit fashion, much more 
likely to insure redress and fulfilment than by any 
more formal method. 


UNDER THE TALMETTO. 


87 


We’se a gwine, oli, don’t yon know, 

Up to Charl’son dressed so fine, 

To de shop and to de show, 

To de big hotel to dine. 

To de New Jerusalem, dat ’s whar we’se gwine to go 
When de boat shubs eff at las’ from dis life’s troubled sho’. 

Massa D’Esty ’ll give us rest 
When we gits ’way down below. 

Den dese niggahs ’ll do dere best, 

Gr ’lang smart as dey can row. 

To de New Jerusalem, dat ’s whar we’se gwine to go 
When de boat shubs off at las’ from dis life’s troubled sho’. 

Young mass’ tink dat we don’ know 
Why he come away so far ; 

He come sparking like a beau, 

His true love to find down h’yar. 

To de New Jerusalem, dat ’s whar we’se gwine to go 
When de boat shubs off at las’ from dis life’s troubled sho’. 

At this unexpected sally, Miss D’Esty, the 
Colonel, and I caught each other’s eye, and at the 
same time saw Jane mischievously enjoying Sam’s 
preternaturally serio-comic expression. The situa- 
tion was so absurd that we all burst into a peal of 
laughter, which rippled forward, as the Colonel, 
choking his down, said, with a twinkle in his eye, 
“You scoundrel, Sam, confine yourself to your 
plantation songs, or I ’ll make an example of you.” 

But, if the state of the case was so apparent to 
all around, why longer disguise from the reader 
that, during my stay at the plantation, Miss D’Esty 


88 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


had become my affianced bride ? In fact, the visit 
had been prompted chiefly by the intention of urging 
my suit, begun the summer before amid the gayeties 
of Saratoga, although the ostensible motive was only 
the business matters in which I was the agent be- 
tween my father and the Colonel. 

Apparently to make amends for his indiscretion, 
Sam almost immediately sang : — 

Wid young massa we mus’ part, 

We’se berry sorry he mus’ go ; 

But he has dis niggah’s heart, 

Dough we neber sees him mo’. 

To de New Jerusalem, dat ’s whar we’se gwine to go 
When de boat shubs off at las’ from dis life’s troubled sho’. 

An’ we wish him all good luck, 

An’ no end of happy days, 

An’ in ebil ones good pluck, 

To live dem to Jesus’ praise. 

To de New Jerusalem, dat ’g whar we’se gwine to go 
When de boat shubs off at las’ from dis life’s troubled sho’. 

"We soon reached the mouth of the Kiawah and 
turned up the Stono, in the full swing of the flood 
tide, which had just been opposing us as we came 
down the Kiawah, but which now, with slight aid 
from the oars, soon brought us to Major Durand’s 
landing, just beyond Legareville, where we stayed 
only long enough to give the crew a rest and allow 
Mr. Anderson to bid arlast farewell to the family, 
and then we swept on up the river to save the tide. 


UNDER THE PALMETTO 


89 


Two hours’ pulling now brought us to the cut-off 
connecting the head of Wappoo Creek with Ashley 
River, which flows by one face of the city of 
Charleston, and, with Cooper River on the other 
face, forms the peninsula on which the city stands, 
the confluence of the two streams forming Charleston 
Harbor. Passing through the cut-off into Wappoo 
Creek, we were soon in fair view of the city, about 
three miles off, and in half an hour were crossing 
Ashley River and steering for the wharves. 

Charleston, lying between the two rivers, with 
its esplanade at the point, looked not unlike a minia- 
ture New York with its Battery. But whatever 
illusion there might be was dispelled by the absence 
of stir and bustle, making one feel, by comparison 
with New York, as if he had reached a shore where 
a spell needed to be broken to arouse the Sleeping 
Beauty. 

We landed, and our crew at once disappeared 
around the point, on the way to their accustomed 
humble quarters, while our party with their luggage 
took a hackney-coach to the Charleston Hotel. 

In due course, Mr. Anderson and I, who were so 
fortunate as to be able to secure a state-room together, 
found ourselves at noon the next day standing on 
the hurricane deck of the steamer, waving our fare- 
wells to the Colonel and his daughter. I turned 
away at last as the dear objects grew dim to sight 
upon the pier and merged in the mass of light and 


90 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


shade, lost in the crowd. Ah, mel this life is made 
up of parting, ceaseless losing in the crowd! 

We steamed out of the harbor between Fort 
Moultrie on Sullivan’s Island, on the left, and Fort 
Sumter, a citadel in the water, on the right. Morris 
Island lay to the right beyond, separated only by 
Light House Inlet from Folly Island, the scene of 
the late duel. I gazed from shore to shore with the 
calm that emerging upon the deep brings to the soul, 
as if, leaving land, it leaves earth and feels like a 
denizen of the universe. A sea- voyage is a paren- 
thesis in life, connected in sense with what precedes 
and follows, but yet a thing apart, resuming the 
past and future. I speculated on the possibility of 
South Carolinans carrying out their threats of seces- 
sion. The significance of the grim, embattled front 
of Sumter, crowned with its barbette guns ; the 
long, low parapet of Fort Moultrie, both impressive 
symbols of the sovereignty of the great Eepublic ; 
the thought of its duration for nigh a hundred years; 
of former threats of secession that had been as the 
idle wind that bloweth where it listeth — all came 
to me as harbingers of peace ; and as the sea-birds 
began to fly screaming about our wake, and we 
headed out into the great waste of waters, man’s 
discords all seemed lulled to rest in the presence of 
the eternal majesty of the changeless sea. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

How vain often are men’s judgments, shaped by 
their hopes and fancies, their ignorance of circum- 
stances, and of the minds of others! Three days 
afterwards found me in New York sharing the 
counsels of my father, to whom the aspect of public 
affairs looked very black. Already the sensitive 
barometer of trade had shown the atmosphere heavy 
with distrust, Southern debts impossible to collect, 
everything in his view betokening calamity. Then 
came the election of the 6th of November, by which 
Abraham Lincoln was chosen President ; then, in 
December, the ordinance of secession by South 
Carolina, followed by other States ; by strenuous 
efforts in the North, and some feeble ones in the 
South, all futile, to still the mutterings of the storm 
about to burst over the land ; and, when the 4th of 
March arrived; the President found himself address- 
ing a divided people, amid the hush of a portentous 
calm. 

Letters came to me from Miss D’Esty, and to my 
father from the Colonel. What they had hospitably 

(91) 


92 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


concealed from me as much as they could during 
my stay on the plantation, was now frankly acknowl- 
edged, concealment being, under the new condition 
of affairs, no longer possible. They had both be- 
lieved that the public feeling of South Carolina 
would inevitably lead to her secession. 

Communication with the South grew more and 
more infrequent as time sped on ; the curtain gradu- 
ally lowered more and more upon acts beyond the 
new frontier, until, on April 12th, at the signal of 
the firing upon Fort Sumter, it rose upon the bloody 
drama of the war. The last news I had from the 
Colonel’s family came through a refugee friend from 
Charleston. The Colonel was raising a regiment 
in Charleston, and his daughter had taken up her 
residence with him in that city. Then they were 
blotted out of my view for long months of weary 
waiting and disaster. 

I pass rapidly over the time immediately following : 
my presence at the defeat of the first battle of Bull 
Run ; an interval of recruiting men in the North ; 
the advance on Richmond, ending with our retreat 
and the Seven Days’ Battles, crowned at last by the 
victory of Malvern Hill ; the indecisive battle of 
Antietam; and I find myself at home again in New 
York, engaged in another kind of recruiting, this 
time of a single soldier, lying for days on his fevered 
pillow, and then, pale and wan, walking about with 
cane, a ghost of his former self ; and, after conva- 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


93 


lescence, I come, as if after a long, troubled dream, 
in sight of Charleston from the shores of Folly 
Island. 

The harbor had long before been proved im- 
pregnable to an advance by water, by the result of 
the iron-clad assault under Commodore Dupont. 
The islands to the southward having long been held, 
under various changes of commanders, by Northern 
troops, nothing remained but systematically to invest 
the Confederate fortifications from land. To this 
effect, therefore, General Gillmore took command 
of the land operations in June, 1863, cooperated 
with by the blockading fleet. 

On the north end of Folly Island, separated, as 
has been said, from Morris Island only by Light 
House Inlet, and masked by trees and sand dunes, 
General Gillmore had fifty guns in battery, ready 
to open on the lower end of Morris Island, held by 
the enemy’s pickets and the small w r orks intervening 
between the Inlet and the formidable earthwork, 
Fort Wagner, situated in the middle of the island, 
supported at the further end by Battery Gregg. 

General Terry’s division of four thousand men, 
and General Strong’s brigade of two thousand five 
hundred, were concentrated by night on Folly 
Island ; and on July 8th General Terry, in command 
of a large force, made that afternoon a demonstra- 
tion up the Stono, landing on James Island ; while, 
by the morning of the 10th, two thousand men of 


94 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


General Strong’s command, having "rowed up Folly 
River during the previous night to the place where 
it meets Light House Inlet, there lay concealed 
behind the high marsh-grass. 

When day broke, the guns in battery opened fire, 
and were served unremittingly for two hours, the 
fleet, now under Commodore Dahlgren, making a 
diversion in favor of the troops by engaging Fort 
Wagner. Our men under General Strong then 
swept across the Inlet in the flotilla of small boats, 
and, landing, drove the enemy from the south end 
of the island, capturing the small batteries and 
pushing out skirmishers close up to Fort Wagner. 

The long suspense of waiting, the ensuing combat, 
and the sweltering heat of the day made us glad of 
respite as we sat or lay down panting on the hot 
sands or under whatever poor shelter the sparse 
growth of wood afforded. But, as Sancho Panza 
would have said, the first entertainment was tarts 
and cheese-cakes to what was to follow. At five 
o’clock the next morning we were led to the assault 
of Wagner by General Strong ; gallantly made, but 
repulsed with some loss. 

We were now perforce brought to a stand by the 
evidently great strength of Fort Wagner, which, 
built completely across the island, lay like a lion in 
our path. If, as is certain, the strength of a fortifi- 
cation is its weakest point, then Wagner was as 
strong as the Malakoff or the Redan at Sebastopol, 


UNDER TIIE PALMETTO. 


95 


for the ocean enveloped it on one side, and imprac- 
ticable marsh on the other, making its short face, 
defended by ditch and abatis, impregnable to assault 
so long as the enemy could command men enough 
to garrison it. But for the aid of the enfilading 
fire of the fleet, our tenure of even the lower end of 
the island would have been precarious. 

On the 16th, General Terry fought a battle with 
a large force concentrated against him on James 
Island. This being compelled to retreat, he at once 
withdrew his troops to take part in the approaching 
grand assault on Fort Wagner. On the 18th his 
force being in position on Morris Island, it was in- 
tended to begin the bombardment by daylight, but 
a terrific thunderstorm delayed operations until 
noon. From that time until dusk our batteries, 
which had been constructed in face of Fort Wagner, 
directed their fire upon it, seconded by another 
bombardment from the fleet, beneath both of which 
it seemed, although aided by Fort Sumter’s fire, 
devoted to the fleet, as if Fort Wagner must wither 
away and crumble to the individual grains of earth 
and sand of which it was composed. 

Towards evening our fire slackened and died 
away, Heaven’s artillery taking up the diapason, a 
thunderstorm bursting over us as our officers massed 
the troops in columns ; and, just as day w r aned, we 
advanced towards the Fort replying to the move- 
ment with a few shots, and, halting for a brief space 


96 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


within three or four hundred yards, rushed forward 
at the “ double-quick,” under a terrific fire, to storm 
the work. 

Our column, the first to assault, although met by 
a withering fire of smallarms, unshaken in its pur- 
pose pushed across the ditch and up the parapet, 
despite ranks decimated by musketry and enfilading 
howitzers, and for a moment our colors were planted 
on the parapet. Here General Strong and many 
other officers fell, and the shattered column, unable 
to maintain its foothold, recoiled in disorder, as the 
second column came on gallantly to the assault, 
maintaining the conflict desperately for several 
minutes, until, unequal to the task, overpowered, 
Colonel Putnam killed, and a large number of the 
rank and file killed or wounded, it suffered the 
same fate as ours, driven back from the work, and 
retiring upon our lines — our total loss in killed and 
wounded one thousand five hundred men. 

The theory of civilized warfare does not recognize 
mere carnage as the chief element of success. Great 
victories have been won where the loss on each side 
has been equal, or even very much greater on the 
side of the victors. Its chief elements consist in 
the struggle for gain of time, whether in strategical 
or tactical movements ; for the destruction of com- 
munications and material ; for the acquisition of 
moral supremacy. 

In nothing is this view more clearly perceptible 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


97 


than in the military law, that, at the peril of being 
put to the sword, a permanent work, not truly de- 
fensible, and left unsupported, shall not attempt 
defence. If the question of time, to enable out- 
lying troops to reinforce, or that of the garrison’s 
holding the enemy in check in the reasonable belief 
of succor, or in favor of the movements of such out- 
lying troops, enters into the case, it is different, and 
defence ceases to be criminal. 

It is a fair inference, then, if, by the laws of 
war, it is justly deemed criminal, and a garrison is 
liable to be put to the sword if it attempts to hold 
an untenable post, that, if the besieged are strong 
enough to resist assault , they should by those same 
laws be compelled to notify the fact to the enemy, 
so that a useless sacrifice of life may be avoided ; so 
that he may either desist, or sit down to a regular 
investment ; attempted deception by the garrison 
being liable to the same penalty as resistance by 
them with manifestly inadequate strength. In this 
case the responsibility of assaulting resting wholly 
with the besiegers, they would do it advisedly or 
not, and at their own proper peril, as in the other 
case, the responsibility and peril of resisting would 
rest entirely with the besieged. Thus, at one im- 
portant point, in which there is much waste of life, 
might be mitigated the horrors of war. 

So, having failed in the grand assault, we sat 
down before Fort Wagner and resumed the invest- 
7 


98 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


ment, to try to take it by regular approaches ; no 
easy task, earthworks being equal and often supe- 
rior to permanent works, from the difficulty of 
battering them in breach. The grounds, too, afforded 
little facility for the enterprise, seeing that it was 
only a narrow strip of sand, the width of the island 
at that point, in face of Fort Wagner, which occu- 
pied a broader part, and allowed of no flanking 
trenches. 

The work was admirably conducted by General 
Gillmore. Considering the difficulties with which 
it was environed, it was wonderful that we were 
able to establish our fifth parallel as early as August 
27th, when also, as extended batteries and rifle-pits 
as could be concentrated on our narrow front were 
perfected. Then, on September 5th, from land and 
sea, again opened the bombardment of the Fort, 
over which, by the noon-day sun and the glare of 
calcium lights by night, shot up clouds of sand under 
the shock of iron hurled against it, silencing its 
guns, and, by dark on the 6th, allowing our engi- 
neers to run their sap close by its seaward face. 

The next morning was appointed for the final 
assault, but the enemy durst not abide it. By 
midnight the sounds that reached our ears, close as 
we were to the parapet, betokened his hasty evacua- 
tion of the work ; and his retreat along the island 
was so rapid and well executed that, although we 
precipitated ourselves at once over the parapet, we 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


99 


succeeded in capturing only seventy of the garrison. 
Battery Gregg, at the extreme northern end of the 
island, on Cumming’s Point, was now untenable, 
and was evacuated by the enemy at the same time 
with Fort Wagner. 

Thus were we at last in complete possession of 
Morris Island. General Gillmore, supplementing 
Battery Gregg with other batteries near by, opened 
fire again, but this time at shorter range, on Charles- 
ton ; renewing also for a while, near the end of 
October, the bombardment of Fort Sumter, once 
before dismantled, by his fire. Blockade-running 
was at an end, and Charleston Harbor, for all pur- 
poses for which it had been useful to the Con- 
federacy, had now become worthless to it. 


CHAPTEE IX. 


Thus were we firmly, and, by contrast, I may 
say peacefully, established on Morris Island. Our 
duties came down to construction of works and slow 
service of the guns, so that every shot might tell. 
Mine left me free to think of another visit to the 
old plantation on Kiawah Island, to which I had 
made one short trip soon after my arrival from the 
North, when we had obtained a foothold on Folly 
Island. I had found the old homestead dismantled, 
everywhere the ravages of war. 

On glancing over the desolated place my heart 
had ached as I thought of the Colonel and his 
daughter ; of their anxieties and privations, which 
my stern duty had compelled me to assist in making. 
In addition, a dreadful fear had seized and now op- 
pressed me, which had not been on my mind on 
the occasion of my first visit to the island. Seared 
on my memory, I never lost sight of a vision that 
had met my gaze on the night of the grand assault 
on Fort Wagner. There, behind the parapet, in 
the flash of musketry, I thought I saw the Colonel 
dragged, wounded, from the press of combatants. 

( 100 ) 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


101 


It was in the afternoon of a fine day in the early 
part of November that, being about to go North in 
charge of prisoners on a transport bound for Fort 
Delaware, and having been ordered again to the 
Army of the Potomac, I got leave of absence for a 
few hours, and, with a squad of four men as oars- 
men, rowed through Folly River, passed the mouth 
of the Stono, landed on the end of Kiawah Island, 
and took the wood-road that skirted the inner shore 
to the old plantation. 

As I passed through its shades, plunged in reverie, 
the squirrels leaping and chattering among the 
branches, and the rabbits glancing from my path, I 
was carried back to the time when, along the con- 
tinuation of the selfsame road, our gay party had 
galloped to the deer hunt and, later, followed the 
uproarious negro band in their chase of the opossum. 
It was October then, October just past now — three 
years. But what a three years, filled with grief 
and misery which the pomp and circumstance of 
glorious war could not disguise! 

In half an hour we came in sight of the manor- 
house and the negro quarters, apparently, at a dis- 
tance, in the same condition as when I had last 
seen them. Near the house was a camp of our 
soldiers, engaged in cooking their evening meal. 
I advanced in answer to a summons signalled from 
a distance, and presented my permit as authority 
for my presence on the island, and explained my 


102 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


object more definitely to the sergeant in command, 
as being to take a last farewell of a place once and 
still dear to me from its associations. 

As I stood looking towards the house as one 
sometimes does when discoursing of inanimate ob- 
jects, contemplating the defaced exterior, the door 
swung open, and a tall, soldierly man in Confederate 
gray, with his arm in a sling, and his military cloak 
flung back from it, appeared upon the threshold. 
My astonishment was too great for utterance, as I 
recognized Colonel D’Esty ; and he, in his turn, 
perceiving me, started, and, brought to a pause, we 
both stood mutely gazing at each other, until, re- 
covering myself, I rushed up the steps of the piazza, 
we grasped each other by the hand, and, after a 
moment’s prolonged silence, fell into each other’s 
arms. 

My first word, of course, was of Miss D’Esty. 
I received most gratifying assurances of her safety, 
and comfort, too, as far as that was possible amid the 
privations of the South. Then came the Colonel’s 
explanation of his presence there, so unfortunate for 
him, but singularly opportune for me. It seemed 
that, on the occasion of the withdrawal of part of 
General Terry’s forces from Folly Island, in order 
to make the demonstration on James Island, as a 
diversion in favor of the crossing of Light House 
Inlet by our troops under General Strong, and 
occupation of the lower end of Morris Island, the 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


103 


Colonel had been sent with some troops to form part 
of the opposing forces. 

“ Then you were not in Fort Wagner on the 
night of the grand assault,” cried I; “ I could have 
sworn I saw you carried off wounded.” 

“ I was,” said the Colonel ; “ hear me out, and 
you will see. I was not there at the first assault, 
of course, for we moved to meet General Terry just 
after he landed on James Island, on July 8th, and 
we did not fight him until daylight on July 16th, 
and your first assault on Wagner was made on July 
11th. But, between the time of the fight with 
Terry and that of the grand assault on Wagner, on 
July 18th, Terry having forced us to retreat, there 
was ample time to return to Fort Wagner, and I 
did. We were there probably just as soon as some 
of Terry’s returning troops had got into position 
before the work. The grand assault on Wagner 
having failed, you sat down to besiege it, and I, 
being wounded, as you saw (a bayonet-thrust, of 
no very great consequence), was soon convalescent; 
and, wishing a little change of scene, and thinking 
that every available man of your side had been 
withdrawn from the other islands for work in the 
trenches on Folly Island, I became possessed with 
the idea that, with the assistance of a faithful 
servant, — Sam, whom you must remember, — I could 
go down the Stono by night from Charleston, up 
the Kiawah to my house, and there secure certain 


104 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


valuable papers which were forgotten in the hurry 
and confusion of our departure. I got leave of 
absence for this purpose, and started about a week 
before Wagner was captured. And I should have 
succeeded, but for Sam’s imprudence in communi- 
cating my intention to a man whom he expected to 
assist. I was captured here in my own house, just 
after landing, and here have I remained under guard 
with other prisoners, and we shall all, I hear, soon 
be taken North.” 

“ Colonel,” said I, u I am happy to be able to 
congratulate you upon my being the officer in charge 
of the prisoners going North. Day after to-morrow 
I sail in the transport Medusa, for Fort Delaware, 
in charge of prisoners, of whom, doubtless, it is 
intended you shall be one. My final destination is 
the Army of the Potomac, but before I leave Fort 
Delaware I shall make such dispositions as are 
possible for your comfort, leaving you such means 
as may enable you » to secure whatever is not fur- 
nished but is admissible by the regulations ” 

By the time we had reached Fort Delaware the 
sea- voyage had had a good effect upon the Colonel’s 
health and spirits, and I left him as well situated 
as it was possible for a prisoner to be, and hopeful 
of a speedy exchange, which in the course of a few 
months was effected. 

The war ended at last, and we lovers and dear 
friends, floated safely through a great commotion, 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


105 


were again at rest together in placid waters. The 
Colonel, Emily, and I occupied the old manor- 
house. Most of the former slaves, as free men and 
women, were scattered far and wide ; but Benjamin, 
and Sam and Jane, now a married couple, were 
still household words with us, being still with us on 
the old plantation. The house was the same, and 
yet not exactly the same as of yore. It long re- 
mained dilapidated, for the Colonel was an im- 
poverished man, too proud to accept relief even 
from his son-in-law. He did not live there con- 
stantly, however, njore than three years after the 
war, but moved with us to New York, where my 
affairs compelled me to reside. There, in the change 
of scene, the removal from the monotony of planta- 
tion life, and the movement of a great city, the 
sadness with which a lost cause and fallen fortunes 
had invested him gradually wore away, and in the 
erect form, easy carriage, and bright eye, one would 
still recognize him perfectly, despite his silvery 
hair, and despite his genial expression having 
yielded in a measure to the seal that passing nobly 
through great and trying events sets upon the face. 

Madame St. Clair still shines in undiminished 
brocade splendor, revolved around by her satellite, 
Miss Post. Mr. Anderson had, from the time when 
we made his acquaintance, been in love with Miss 
Dubreuil, who was the quiet little girl in the corner 
for whose little finger he had cared more than for 


106 


UNDER THE PALMETTO. 


Miss Cressance, soul and body, who had piped to 
him with a result that, as know, had come near 
proving fatal. Miss Gressance herself, married to 
Mr. Blaisdell, is our near neighbor on Wadmelaw 
Island. She is no longer in the least frisky, and 
could not now, by the greatest stretch of the 
imagination, be called the queen of love and beauty, 
having become immoderately fat, Cupid permitting 
no romance beyond his own gracious embonpoint. 


THE END. 


UNDER THE PALMETTO 

IN PEACE AND WAR. 


\ 

BY 


RICHARD MEADE BACHE. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

CLAXTON, REMSEN, & HAFFELFINGER, 
624, 626, AND 628 MARKET STREET. 
1880 . 



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